


Woman On the Moon

by Funkgod



Series: Jim Carrey Fanfiction [1]
Category: Comedy - Fandom, Jim carrey - Fandom, Real Person - Fandom, celebrity - Fandom, comedian - Fandom
Genre: Art, Comedy, Erotic, F/M, Funny, Jim Carrey - Freeform, Los Angeles, Painting, Real Life, Romance, Sex, celebrity, celebrity encounter, comedian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-09-02 02:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20268625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funkgod/pseuds/Funkgod
Summary: A young woman meets her idol; comedian and actor Jim Carrey. He shows her Los Angeles, and the two begin a perspective-changing relationship, affair, and friendship.





	1. Chapter 1

I was walking down a street in LA on a particularly warm and windy day. It was overcast. The palm trees were moving with the wind, and I felt very comfortable and relaxed as I closed my car door, locked it and switched on my camera. I was on this random street because I was lost in LA and trying to make a day of it, photographing every cool thing I saw. On this street I saw a cool old building with gold furnishings that I wanted to capture, so I gazed up at it and quickly took a few shots. As I admired the ornate carvings of the building a mans voice entered my consciousness.  
“Pretty, isn’t it?”  
I turned and saw a man who had turned the corner and who had stopped to watch me and my camera.  
“Yeah, I love the designs of the leaves in the gold” I replied.  
“This used to be an old acting studio back in the 90s, now its a place where elderly people play chess” the man replied. He smirked, “now where are the actors going to learn to act?” He put on a dramatic face. I laughed. “I can’t even tell who’s acting here or not” I replied. “LA is a city full of actors and weirdos.”  
“Well” he said, “both are pleased to make your acquaintance,” he stuck out his hand and winked at me.  
It was then I looked more closely at his face and was flooded with curiosity as I recognized him. Not wanting to look stupid but surely doing it anyway I said “I’m a weirdo from Milwaukee Wisconsin so I guess I’m in the big leagues here.” I gestured to him to try and point out that I knew who he was. Jim Carrey smiled gently at me. I became alert and focused with anticipation. Jim Carrey was one of my biggest comic idols. Then his dark large eyes lit up with excitement.  
“Milwaukee? It means “the good land”, the native tribes there recognized its fertility and beauty. Not unlike my home country of Canada. Not much like California. But, it has sun, and that’s why I’m here.”  
“That’s exactly why I’m here too, apart from all the culture, the sunlight is why I am visiting in the first place. I really want to move away from any sort of winter.” He nodded. I continued, “I have pretty severe depression so the winter and lack of sun makes it much harder for me. Why would I wanna be depressed for half the year if I could help it by moving somewhere like this?”  
“Yes! You’re on the right track” he exclaimed. He moved a step closer to me. “You have to do all you can to make yourself comfortable in your body and mind on this planet. We only have a limited time so why not enjoy everything to the maximum potential?”  
I nodded eagerly. “Yes, that’s exactly what I think too. I already feel like I’ve wasted too much time and I’m pretty young so I need to get my stuff together ASAP” I laughed and felt awkward. I wondered what Jim fucking Carrey of all people thought about my depression bullshit. He just looked kindly at me and then quickly at his wristwatch. “Speaking of time I need to be getting home, I’m expecting a big delivery of paint supplies.” I didn’t want him to go but I also didn’t want to bother him, “oh that’s cool, your paintings are really good. They inspire me to want to do more painting. I saw your video “I Needed Color” and I related a lot to that sentiment.” He smiled.  
“I’m glad you found inspiration, if I can give a little bit of goodness to this world and someone else can receive it, then I’ve done my job as a human being and I can sleep better at night. If I’m not up painting the whole night. Haha art really does wonders for my own demons, keeping them out, like bats out of a cave.”  
“Art is... crucial” I said, trying to keep myself composed. “that’s why I do photography, I love looking at all the details of beautiful things and trying to capture a precious moment. It’s my way of contributing something.” I laughed.  
“I haven’t done much photography but I imagine it’s similar to painting and drawing with the composition and things. It’s all wonderful—art—we need it to survive, to thrive.” I nodded. He looked at his watch again. “Well I’d better be going to get my delivery. Take it easy here in LA. Are you staying in a hotel?” I nodded. “The Ambassador.” “Oh that’s a cool one! Gotta get some photos of that right?”  
“Yes! I booked it so I could get pictures of it. By the way, you don’t know what direction it’s in do you? I got really turned around.”  
“I’m not really sure, but—“ he was cut off as his phone started jingling from within his shorts pocket. “Hello? Yes around 6:00. Oh, okay, I’ll come out around 8:00 then. No problem, bye.” He hung up and looked at me sighing. “Now they’re not gonna drop it off until 8 am tomorrow. I guess I’ll have to wait a day to try my new oil pastels...”  
I felt a pang of relief somehow, as if now he wouldn’t have go, that now we could keep talking, as I so wanted to do. But surely he wouldn’t waste any more time talking to a random girl on the street, would he?  
“Oh yeah I bet you could paint some really cool stuff with oil pastels. They’re challenging to use but the blending is nice.” I probably sounded so pedestrian and stupid but I didn’t know what else to say. I looked towards my car and laughed. “Yeah I have no idea where my hotel is...”  
I pulled out my phone and saw it was 4% power. “I’m gonna need to charge my phone though for the GPS...  
“There’s a cafe if you go down Howard to the left, but they’ll probably be packed and want you to buy something.” I sighed. Then his eyes lit up and he said “I could do you one better though, if you wanted to do me a favor I could do you a favor.” I got butterflies in my stomach. I smiled and looked into his eyes confidently. “I have some time to kill tonight and since I’m waiting for my paints to work on this new project I’m starting, maybe I could do some sculpting. I noticed your camera has an interesting shape and I just got this idea to sculpt a camera. I don’t really have one lying around, so if you wanted to let me use your camera as a 3D model, that would save me a trip to the camera store, and you could charge your phone.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Jim Carrey wanted me to help him make art! And I was invited to his house?! I was stunned and smiled broadly. “That would be awesome!” I couldn’t articulate anything more. Jim said “okay, follow me. I took a cab down to a little park around here that’s kind of hidden so we can just pick one up here.” He boldly stepped to the side of the busy road and held up his hand for an oncoming cab. The car slowed down and he turned to me. I started to follow him but then said “wait, what about my car?”  
“Write down the street and I’ll send you in a cab back to it later” he replied. I nodded and locked my car doors and followed him into the cab. I wrote down the street address in my phone with little battery it had and Jim told his address to the driver. I put my camera back in its bag and looked around as we drove. I wanted to let him control the conversation because I was nervous to make him like me and I didn’t want to come off as annoying. He didn’t seem to think anything was off and continued our previous conversation. “How long have you been here?”  
“Only three days, and I’m staying a week.” I said.  
“How long have you lived in Milwaukee?”  
“22 years so, my whole life”  
“22 years? Wow. I thought you were a bit older. But hey, a lot of young women move to LA when they’re 18.” We both laughed.  
“I’m not moving, just getting a feel for the place.” I said.  
He repeated “just getting a feel for the place...” and got lost in thought for a moment, then he smiled. “I remember when I first got off the bus in LA” he put a pained face. “The heat index was HIGH that day!” I laughed.  
“I don’t mind the heat if it means no winter.”  
“Yeah you get used to it. But I wonder if it’s good for your camera to be exposed to that sometimes.”  
“It’s not an active volcano” I laughed.  
“Off by a few degrees” he joked. He looked out the window. “My place is right up that hill.” I looked at the long winding green hill that extended out of the suburbs.  
“Okay cool” I said, trying not to come off as a fan dying inside because they were about to see their idols mansion, but rather as a genuine human being interacting with another human being. We pulled up to a tall iron gate and were let in, Jim paid and thanked the driver and he let us in the front door.  
The mansion was huge.  
“Please don’t photograph anything here” he said. “I try to maintain some form of privacy.”  
“Sure.”  
I gawked around his spacious first story landing. The decor was elegant and not too extravagant. There were a few plants and photos on the walls but nothing gold or ritzy. I could tell he had a lot of money but was not flaunting it. He looked at me enjoying his home.  
“It’s where I sleep, usually” he laughed. “But I’ll show you where the magic really happens.” He led me down a corridor and down some stairs to a basement. It was furnished and it had a door that led to his art studio. It was a gigantic grey room with stacks of white canvases waiting to be painted. There were shelves of paints and other art supplies. On the walls hung large colorful and psychedelic paintings he had made. Some I recognized from his Twitter. We walked along a path between shelves and reached another room with pottery wheels and a full kiln.  
I stared in awe at all of it.  
“This must be the best place to do creative stuff... So much room to work and so much inspiration everywhere.” I remarked.  
“Yeah I love it” he smiled and nodded, looking around and taking in his work. “I just come here and get away from all of the world around me and sit in this space, this spiritual space and create and create and paint and paint and the paints choose me, they tell me what to paint and I oblige. The colors, they come randomly sometimes and just get thrown down on the canvas and most of the time it works out. Honestly I’m so fortunate and lucky to have a space where I can be free of all the stress and routines and just really be one with the paints and colors and clays.” He looked towards the kiln.  
“I have to clean that thing though, before I put more clay in it. But anyway, do you need a charger, an iPhone charger? I have one around here somewhere”. He opened a desk drawer and produced a charging cord. He took my phone and plugged it in under the desk.  
“Thank you.” I said. I had no idea what was happening but I just went with it. I really did feel like I was in a spiritual place. The white canvasses everywhere made it feel heavenly. There was also a painting of an angels wings hanging on the wall close by. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I remembered my camera.  
“Do you want me to take out my camera?” I asked.  
“Yes please. Let me just wash my hands.” He rinsed his hands off in the sink and opened a package of dark grey clay. He placed it in his hands and showed me. “This is good quality stuff, very fresh, so I need to use it soon. Do you sculpt at all?”  
“Me? No not really. I tried in high school but I wasn’t great at it. I had trouble with the wheel haha.”  
“Here I’ll show you a trick.” He sat down at a wheel and started spinning it. He took the clay and kneaded it in his hands. He took some water and spread it over the clay as it began to spin. I watched intently for his every move. “Just gently apply pressure to the clay and pull it up towards you.” The clay thinned out and formed a cone shape. 

“You make it look easy” I said.  
“Here, you try it” he got up and let me sit in his spot. I took the clay and felt it’s smooth coolness in the palms of my hands. Jim took a scoop of water in his hand and sprinkled it over the clay and my hands. His hand brushed against mine as he did this and I felt elated. My mind was totally blank as I stared at the clay moving around in a circle. Jim gently took my hands and pressed them against the clay until it formed a cone shape.  
“Not so bad, is it?” He asked. I laughed softly. He stepped away from me and dried his hands. Then took out the camera and examined it. He then placed it on a wooden stool in front of the wheel. I got up and dried off my hands too. I checked my phone. “9%” I said.  
“Be a pal, stay a while” he said. Tell me about your photography, what do you like to look at?” He sat down to the wheel and began working. I told him about my photography and about my art, he told me of a camera he once had as a kid on family vacations, I told him about my family vacations and about my family. He told me about his dad and mom and their household. He talked about depression. I told him about my depression too. We talked about death and suicide, we talked about Robin Williams, and his girlfriend. We talked for a few hours while he sculpted the camera and I watched him. It was nearing 8:30 when he finally set the sculpture down and declared that it was dinner time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) continues getting to know actor and comedian Jim Carrey in his home in L.A. The two share an erotic night together for the first time.

In the kitchen, Jim brought out a bowl of leftover spaghetti and cut up some bread. We joked about that and he told me about the new Sonic movie he was in. Then we went back to talking about painting.  
“Do you want to paint something abstract with me? You said you liked abstract art.” He asked.  
“Sure!”  
We took out a set of neon paints and squirted them all over the canvas. I tried to compliment what he was doing but mostly we were just putting it down at random. He chose bright blood orange and I chose violet.  
“It’s good!” He declared. “Man it’s nice to have someone to do this with sometimes. It’s a great activity when you’re alone but it does get lonely after a while. Good to have some human interaction in the process itself.”  
I looked at him fondly as he looked down at the painting. When he looked back up I averted my gaze.  
“Lets let this dry and check up on our sculpture.”  
We went back by the sculpture and I checked my phone.  
“Oh, it’s 10:00” I said.  
“Do you need to be getting back?”  
“Well, not really, I just need to let my parents know I’m okay, I’ll text them. I’m sure the hotel will let me in at whatever time, right?”  
“They would, but you can always stay here if you don’t want to drive around at night. You might get lost and there’s a lot of weirdos out there looking to hassle someone not familiar with the area. I do have a lot of rooms that I don’t use.”  
I couldn’t believe my ears, staying over at Jim Carrey’s house after making art with him??? WTF was I on to be that euphoric and high.  
“Umm, Yeah, I could stay, that might be easier, but what about my car?”  
“I have street parking here. I’ll call if you give me the license plate number” he said.  
“Okay thank you.”  
“Oh” he said, “I almost forgot, you need to sign your painting.”  
“Sign it?”  
“Sure, I’ll sign it too. You’re the artist after all, you should sign your work.”  
I signed my name at the bottom right corner of the abstract neon painting and Jim Carrey signed his.  
“Can I... take a picture of this painting?” I asked.  
“You can keep the painting” he said. “But you can take a picture of the sculpture if you want. Actually, you want a photo of you and the sculpture with your camera? I can take it on my phone.”  
I stood beaming holding my camera next to his sculpture as he took a picture.  
“I’ll text it to you.” Jim Carrey texting me??? Holy. Shit. He texted me the photo. I couldn’t wait to show my family and friends and everyone on social media but I placed my attention back on Jim. He took the sculpture and placed it in the Kiln.  
“I’ll have to clean it later but whatever.”  
“This must get annoying, but, could I like, get a photo with you too?” I asked very nervously.  
“Sure.”  
I set my phone to front camera and he stood next to me. He placed his head on my shoulder in an exaggerated way and I smiled a full radiant bright smile while we took a bunch of goofy photos. He kept doing different funny poses until he grabbed my waist and dipped me back like we were dancing.  
“I can’t possibly get a photo in this position” I laughed. He chuckled.  
“Some might say that’s a good position to be in!” He did an Elvis impersonation. “Baby, let’s swing” he cartoonishly swung me around and threw me out for a twirl which I completed semi gracefully. Then he put on a Spanish accent and said “doll, let’s tango” and he pulled me in close to him. I felt the pressure of his hand firmly on my lower back and the perspiration of his fingers intertwined with mine. I was very aware of my hand on his waist and I felt his body heat as he looked intensely into my eyes. His eyes were dark mysterious wells and I was transfixed by them. I wanted to stare into them but I pulled my gaze away and looked at a painting of Jesus on the wall. A shiver ran up my legs and I flinched. I scratched my hand and placed it back, sweaty on his side. He led me across the room and I concentrated on my footing.  
Finally, I broke the silence. “I’ve never danced like this before...”  
“Dancing is part of humanity, too” he said, still leading me. “We need to let loose sometimes.”  
He broke free from me and pranced and twirled around the room. He smirked, “not too shabby for an old man.”  
“You’re not that old” I remarked.  
“Old enough to be wise enough to know when I’m a fool” he said, getting a serious expression. He got lost in thought again.  
“Teach me to dance” I encouraged him. He picked up my hand and dipped me back swiftly. I was more graceful this time and spun out perfectly. Then I returned and took his waist again. He slipped his long fingers into mine and took me around the room. We had no music, but the silence was quiet, so it was invited. I sighed deeply and he sighed too. I felt the cool air on my face and shivered. He looked at his watch. It was 11:00 pm.  
“Are you tired?”  
“Not really, are you?”  
“Not yet.”  
“Good, we can make another painting?”  
“No, let’s go upstairs.” His eyes looked serious and they burned into my mind. He led me upstairs to a sleek living room with a high fire place.  
“More heat for LA?” I said.  
“The air conditioning is on high. It’s the best of both worlds.”  
“True.” He turned on the fire. It crackled Orange like the paint he was using earlier.  
“Would you like some wine? It’s the cliche thing you offer around a fireplace.”  
“Do you have anything sweet?”  
“Sweet... no, but I do have some sweet champagne?”  
“Champagne sounds great.”  
He brought out a bottle of chilled champagne and poured me a glass. It was fizzy and quite sweet, I drank it quickly and he poured me another.  
“A toast” I said as I held up my glass, “to making art!”  
“To making art!” He downed his glass. I licked my lips after I finished drinking my second glass. He held up the bottle and I let him pour me another.  
“A toast, to new friends and old!” He gestured to the champagne as an old friend and tipped a fake hat. We clinked classes and sipped the drinks. I was starting to feel pleasantly warm and the bubbles from the drinks were making me feel light and giddy. I grinned happily and saw that he was staring into the flames intently. He took a sip of his glass and perked up. “It’s good to have company, sometimes this place doesn’t even get used when I’m here by myself... well, cheers!” He downed his third glass and poured another. I drank mine slowly and steadily, then had another.  
I raised my glass a third time,  
“To life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness... and fires in the summer”  
“Here here!” He chanted. He sat down on the rug close to the fire. I moved from my chair down there too. He stared into the flames once more. He yawned widely then turned to see me looking at him. “You have a watchful eye, that’s good.” He commented thoughtfully. He contemplated me, I contemplated this contemplation and was at a loss for words. Stunned by the immaculate silence and rarity of the situation.  
I took a sip of my drink and brushed it off “it’s the least I can do!”  
He smiled, and stared into my eyes. He softened his gaze and reached his hand out, putting it on my shoulder. I was flustered for a moment, but then reacted instinctually and put my hand on his knee.  
Then, as time started to slow down, it happened.  
We started kissing. He pulled me close to him and I put my arms around his neck. He matched my intensity perfectly. Not too rough, but with the perfect amount of pressure, like our hands on the clay. I could feel his pulse emanating through his shorts and I felt my own pulse accelerate. The psychedelic painting of Jesus flashed in my mind for a second and I remembered where I was. I saw Jim with his eyes closed and nose pressed up against mine. It was surreal. I closed my eyes and let myself be taken by the moment. He pulled away from me slowly and gazed at me.  
“Have you ever heard of tantric sex?”  
I laughed. “Yes, but I’ve never done it.”  
“Would you wanna try?” He whispered. I smiled  
“Sure.”  
“It’s best to try, for seconds.” I didn’t know what he meant by that. He reached over and took my thigh. I felt the tingling and anticipation zoom through my body. He spread my thighs apart and I let him open them. He moved over me and between my thighs with his entire body, and cradled my head in his hands. Our lips met and the rest of the world melted away. I felt him with my tongue. I gently explored his mouth and he, with moderate force, explored mine. We were pressed closely, tightly, against each other and that was all that mattered. I felt his hardened self brush against me. He moved slowly back and forth against me and I sighed. I ran my hands through his dark brown hair and with one hand, he undid his belt leaving me to my devices. I gently caressed him with my hand while I felt for the zipper. The bulge in his shorts was large and very noticed by me. I couldn’t wait any longer, but I ran my hands up, instead of down, and pulled off his black t shirt. He pulled off my own shirt slowly and deliberately. We resumed kissing, harder this time, breathing short, quick breathes, and I ran my hands over his chest. Only partly hairy, but muscled and firm, I closed my hand around his breast. He leaned over me and lowered his mouth to my exposed neck. He placed his lips on my neck and kissed me there in that spot, tenderly. I felt weightless and free. He dragged his soft lips across my skin and kissed me in another spot, then another. He kissed my neck all the way around, enjoying every moment. Then he began going down my chest to my breasts. He ran his tongue over my erect nipple and began to suckle on my breast. He latched onto my breast with his mouth and sucked, slowly at first, and then aggressively. One hand held the back of my head and the other squeezed my left breast. I held his head as he nursed my breast and I stroked his hair. There was nothing so precious to me. I felt like he was a child who needed to be cared for. But more than that, I felt he was a human being who needed comfort and security, like he had long ago found in his mother’s breast. It was sexual in nature but innocent and vulnerable in a spiritual way. I laid back and stroked his face. He nursed my breast for a long time and when he released my large bosom was firmly erect, wet, and pink. He ran his hand down my body and let it rest on my thigh. We just laid there for a moment together, him resting his face against my breasts and me underneath his warm body, cradling him close to me.

Silently, he then slid his face down to my pants line and teased off my shorts. He spread my thighs once more, far apart, and began sucking on me through my cotton underwear.  
With his thumb he massaged the outline of my clitoris in a circular motion, while he kept his mouth on my vulva.  
“I think this area requires some special attention...” he murmured. “I think that I better take a closer look.” 

He pulled off my underwear to reveal my wet and swollen pussy beneath. He groaned softly at the sight of me, and with two long fingers, spread apart my lips. Then, with the tip of his tongue he tasted me, and explored my vulva. He licked around the outside first, moving in, just sampling. Then, he flicked his tongue across my clitoris and I flinched. He looked up at me with his mouth still full of my pussy. It was intense to look straight into his eyes. He commanded a presence that intimidated me but invited me in as well. I just wanted to become one with him and become as connected as possible.  
He continued to rub my clit with his thumb while he played with the rest of me with his mouth. He kissed my pussy and lapped it up. I sighed with pleasure. “Mhmm.” He stroked my clit while he made out with my labia. “You taste so good...I could eat a five course meal of just you.” I smiled and moaned quietly;  
“Baby... you’re crazy.”  
“All good things in moderation” he said. He backed up off of me and lay on his side facing me, gazing at my face and thinking. We stared into each other’s eyes then he closed his and asked softly,  
“Am I your baby?” Silence for a moment.  
“Yes, you are my baby...”  
I watched him smile contentedly.  
“My baby boy... I’ll keep you safe. Just be good.”  
“I’ll be good” he whispered, “I promise.”  
“You have been good so far” I said.  
His bulge was showing prominently through his shorts. I slowly pulled off his shorts and saw his penis underneath his underwear. The outline was distinct and large. I took him in my hand and grasped him for a few moments, teasing him as I decided what to do. For a minute I just rested my hand on his penis through his briefs and suddenly he opened his eyes.  
“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable” he said.  
He pulled me up off the rug and led me by the hand to a master bedroom. He kept all of the lights off except for the hall light as he skillfully lit three small candles. Then he switched off the hall light and led me to the bed. The ambiance of the room was perfect. The glow from the candles illuminated the man in front of me in a soft shadowy tint. I lay him down on the bed and hungrily removed the underwear, and his full self was revealed. A little larger than average was just alright with me. 

For a second, I felt awkward again. I had to give a performance to one of the greatest performers of all time. But, I tried not to think, and took him in my mouth. I caressed the head of his cock with my lips and slowly ran my tongue along the shaft. I looked up at him, maybe for direction, or maybe for approval, and he said softly “go on, baby, take it for a spin.” I scoffed and smiled, and faced his cock again. I knew what to do. I gradually slid him into my mouth and pushed him down into my throat. I held him there for a few moments until I gently slid him back out again. He let out a low soft groan and closed his eyes. Effortlessly, I buried him deep in my throat and pressed my face all the way to end of his balls. I loved the feeling of taking him inside me as far as I could go and making him feel good. I ran my lips across his balls and gently sucked on each one, fitting the whole thing in my mouth and squishing it around. He didn’t ask much from me; he sat me up and brought me tightly to his chest. He kissed my forehead and said “let’s save that for round 2.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) enters a second round of erotic activity with actor and comedian Jim Carrey, who also offers her some life advice.

So this was only round one... He squeezed his hand around my throat and applied a moderate amount of pressure. My pussy tingled.  
“Such innocent eyes...” he whispered as he stared intently into my eyes. With his hand still around my throat he kissed me, harder than before, yearning for every taste. I kissed him furiously, he relinquished his grip on my throat and I climbed on top of him sitting on his stomach, pulling his face towards me as I ate him up. He responded with equal vigor and held me on top of him. I sucked his lips and then his neck, giving him kisses everywhere. I could feel the heat built up between both our thighs, the fire burning and ready for release. He reached over to his nightstand and fumbled for a condom. I sat, pussy aching, on top of him waiting for the flames to consume me. He swiftly pulled it on and then rolled me over so I was on my back. Fully nude, he spread my thighs apart and thrust my legs up over his shoulders. I was open and ready for him to devour me. He took his hard cock in his hand and teased me with it, slowly rubbing it against my lubricated pussy. He dipped the head in and out of my folds but didn’t let it enter. I groaned loudly. My hole was aching to be filled and he was the only one who could fill it. He knew how much I needed him and he smiled and he teased me with his cock. He restrained himself from entering so that he could torture me with his cock, ready to fill me up deep inside. I knew I had to be patient and to prove I was worthy of his entrance. Even though he clearly longed to feel me he still wanted to edge me as far as he could. His spell was over me 100%, as if it hasn’t been the whole time, but now I recognized that he had control over me and he knew it, and would use it to open me up to full vulnerability. What if he just rubbed his cock on me all night and never filled me? The man was an enigma and I had no idea what he would choose to do with me. My pussy, in that moment, fully belonged to him. I was soaking wet, engorged, and starving. And he loved this. My clitoris was getting wonderful stimulation, but all I craved and desired was to feel his long, hard cock deep inside me, making me feel fulfilled and whole. Packed and purposeful. His cock teased my hole further and further, pushing against it but never penetrating. But, he began to push more and more and it became closer and closer to breaking through. My cunt ached but as he moved so did my asshole. I just needed him inside me in any way possible. Finally, he broke through and slipped himself inside of me. It was immediate pleasure striking every sensor in my body. Dopamine flowed like a waterfall as he moved deeper and deeper into my body with every thrust. I groaned and breathed sharply. Then he pulled out again and rubbed against my clit. He knew how to jack himself off with my cunt. And I understood; this was tantric sex, letting things build and containing the heat and the fire for as long as possible. Then, abruptly, He held my legs and shoved himself in hard and deep, all the way inside, quickly, and and dominantly. I breathed heavily and bit my lip. He began pounding me fast and deep, over and over again. While deep inside he rubbed my wet clitoris with his fingers and I squirmed back and forth in pleasure at his touch. His touch was commanding a reaction out of me and I responded as openly and naturally as I could. I didn’t think about what was socially acceptable or have any anxieties at all, I just moved with him, and felt every sensation along the way. I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then he slowed. My vision got clearer and he began pumping me with his cock, ignoring my clit, feeding my hole. I was slammed by dopamine and felt like I’d just injected heroin. I was high as the clouds and soaring and I wanted to cum badly but I didn’t want the high to ever end.  
“Come on baby, fill me up.” I moaned. His body was dripping with sweat and he plowed on determinedly. I gazed up in awe at him and reached for him with my mouth. “Come on baby, give it to me, give it to me!” In perfect physical form he thrust into me over and over. I began rubbing my clitoris furiously and concentrated on nothing but releasing all of the tension that had been built up. It took only a minute, but I felt the relief flood over my entire body, all my muscles contracted and felt like I’d been hit by a bus. I contracted and squirmed with Jim inside me for I’m guessing 30 seconds. Immediately I felt exhausted thoroughly, and collapsed on the bed with my eyes closed. I was still seeing stars. “Jim... baby...ahhhhhhhhhh” I sighed. Jim lay down next to me, facing me. I affectionately pulled his arm around me and snuggled as close as possible to his face, our noses touching.  
“Let’s take a break” he said, reading my mind. Maybe the wine was getting to me but I felt very sleepy. I was totally relaxed and beyond content. I was snuggling with the man of my dreams. We held each other in the dark silence with only the flickering of candles to distract from the passion we were building. I’m not sure how long we were lying there because although I couldn’t fall asleep, my mind was still void of activity. Eventually I must have fallen asleep though, and awoke a few hours later in the total darkness, the candles having been snuffed out. Jim was missing from the bed. I didn’t want to get up but I went to look for him in the living room. The fireplace was off and he was in the kitchen making herbal tea. I suddenly became nervous of the situation and wondered if I would be asked to leave now that business was done. The thought of returning to my car and to my hotel depressed me greatly. I sighed and he looked up. 

“Do you want some tea? I’ve been drinking this cleansing blend that’s supposed to heal you from negative mental energy” he said. I shrugged. It sounded like bullshit and I was definitely experiencing negative mental energy that I assumed it would not solve.  
“Sure.”  
The tea was bitter and hot but I drank it without complaint.  
“Is something up?” He asked. I was surprised that he picked up on my sadness. I sighed my classic sigh.  
“There’s always something up” I replied.  
“Tell me” He urged, seriously. I didn’t know how to tell him that the thought of returning to my mediocre sad life in Wisconsin and leaving this wonderful city of angels was upsetting me. But mostly, I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to leave the art and the passion, and the soft waves of his hair. I didn’t want my dream to become a surreal, vague, memory.  
“Tell me about it, in bed?” He asked. I nodded and we went back to the bedroom. Just being in the dark comforted me a little. We got into bed and immediately he pulled me close to him and held me securely.  
“I feel so secure” I admitted. “With you...” he listened. “I feel safe here, I feel... really good... happy, pretty happy and, usually that’s hard for me.” I sighed deeply. “I don’t wanna ho back to Milwaukee. I feel like I’m not going anywhere there, and that my potential is being wasted. I have some talent... maybe not the most in the world but I have some creativity and appreciation for art. I feel like I need to be around it more. And... artistic people too. I’m just not meant to fit into a normative mold in society and I’ve been trying to force myself to be normal and yet I’ve been miserable. So I’m afraid, and I’m afraid of being stuck and of taking a big chance too, because I don’t want to fail, but I feel like I’m failing now anyway... I don’t know, Jim, I feel like a fool...”  
Jim took all of this in and then broke the silence by saying  
“honey, take it from me, success does not define your worth or your happiness. It doesn’t matter so much where you are, it matters what’s inside you, because it follows you everywhere. And I know you have a lot of pain inside of you, but you have a lot of greatness too, far more worthy than the pain. You’re also very young and you have so much time to explore and find what makes you happy. You have to be true to your deepest spiritual self and not try to act like you think others want you to. You’ve already figured out that the mold you thought you needed to fit into is bullshit. It’s meaningless and contrived and you’re better than that. You can make your own way in society, you don’t need a prescription or a mold, or you can make your own. You have many options for exploring your talents and desires. Just let go of the doubts and trust your heart and soul.”  
“Do you really think I can be successful?”  
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t think that. I knew right away that there was something wonderful about you when I saw your attention to detail with your photography. And the painting we made? We can go down and look at it but that’s just an hours worth of your creative spirit at work.”  
I smiled. “Thank you Jim.”  
“You don’t need to thank me for telling the truth. You know it already but there’s insecurities festering and obscuring it. But I got you, kid, you’re here and that means more than you give yourself credit for.”  
I snuggled into him and he held my hand. I don’t know how I felt just then, if I looked up to him as a mentor, a fellow artist and unique soul, or a father figure protecting me, or maybe just a kind and sensitive human being who genuinely cared for my welfare. Clearly, all three. And also, don’t forget about recent sexual partner that I definitely didn’t have feelings for.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) shares a second night of erotic romance with actor and comedian Jim Carrey. The two enjoy cocaine, a hot tub, and fun in L.A.

Jim held me for a long while. I almost forgot that our time would surely be coming to an end soon. Then I remembered my car.  
“Jim... we never called in the car.”  
“That’s okay” he said sleepily. “I’ll pay the ticket if you got one.”  
“Thanks.”  
I wanted to say more but I wasn’t sure what I should say to him. How could I tell him I wanted him to hold me always and be my best friend and supporter. I rolled my eyes. Just forget about it! I heard Jim snoring and eventually drifted off myself. I awoke to the door bell ringing. Jim went out to get his paint supplies in an inside out t shirt and shorts. I checked my phone. Surprisingly, no messages. I thought of my family back home going about their regular lives and it was another wave of depression for me to think about. My family did not need me around and I did not need them. I could come here to LA and do my own thing and not be missed. My hotel didn’t miss me. Nobody missed me if I just got lost and disappeared. Which is what I had basically done anyway. The early morning sunlight was not my friend and I closed the blinds in the bedroom. I thought of having to go find my car and hotel in the tired sunlight and sighed. I got back into Jim’s bed and curled up on my side. Maybe if I stayed here all day he wouldn’t make me leave. Jim came back into the room and disrobed again and slipped under the covers. 

“Do you want some breakfast?”  
“Nah” I replied.  
“You’re still sad, aren’t you” he said.  
“Yes.”  
“What can I do to cheer you up?”  
I smiled, “you just being here cheers me up.”  
“I’m sure there’s more I can do” he said, then he started tickling me. I laughed and squirmed around.  
“Misery loves company” he said. “I’m a little sad myself.”  
“Aw, why?” I asked.  
“Because, I meet so many people, have so many conversations, but it never goes deeper than that, it’s always some superficial Hollywood bullshit. People kind of float into my life and then float out, which is fine, you need a change, but it would be nice to have it be a little more balanced with durations of friends presences in my life.”  
“I’d imagine that youd have a lot of friends, though?”  
“I do, I do have a lot of friends, I know a lot of people, but I’m spread too thin sometimes and it feels like work to be social...  
“So... you’re lonely?”  
“Most of the time I’m not, but I’m an introvert; I like being alone and I feel almost more energized that way, but sometimes I just want a break from the solitude, and when there’s no one there, that’s when I get a feeling of emptiness...”  
“I understand perfectly” I said “because that’s exactly how I feel too. I can enjoy my own company a lot but eventually I’ll get tired of myself and want to be around people that understand me, but when there’s no one, I don’t know what to do. I feel lost. I mean, I feel lost in so many ways but especially how I relate to others and how others relate to me; I feel like an alien on this planet that not many people truly like or understand. Back home I don’t even have real friends that I can go out and do things with. Everyone is so boring anyway. That’s why I want to come live here and be around real comedians and artists and weirdos. I think I could find my niche.”  
“So what’s stopping you? From moving here?”  
I laughed. “My crippling anxiety... money, job, school, fear of change, I guess. But other than my family and familiarity there isn’t anything I really like about Milwaukee and I think I could easily start over somewhere new.”  
“I think that’s a really good attitude to have. You’re starting to know what you want and don’t want in life at a young age, and even though you feel confused about how to execute change, you know change is positive and that you want to make changes that will make you happy in the long run.”  
“You sound like my therapist.”  
He smiled. “Do I? What about now?” He kissed me playfully.  
“This is better than therapy” I said.  
“Sexual healing” he sang. “Yeah! It’s a real therapeutic process where you can learn a lot about yourself through doing it, actually.”  
“Is that your way of going to round 2?” I teased him.  
“Is that YOUR way of going to round 2?” He shot back. I shook my head bemused.  
“You’re a snarky bitch, but I guess we knew that since like, the 80s.”  
“Is that my legacy, ‘snarky 80s bitch’?” He asked.  
“Your legacy is ‘obnoxious face guy’... featuring paintings and depression and like, Andy Kaufman.”  
He laughed, “no round 2 for you.”  
“Aww... so no sexual obnoxious faces for you either?”  
“This is a lose-lose situation”  
“Only because you’re a little bitch, boy”  
“Fine” he said turning away from me, then he quickly rolled over, grabbed me by the shoulders, and turned me on my back, pinning me down.  
“Now I have the high ground.”  
“You’re such a weirdo, man”  
He stared into my eyes for a long time without any expression.  
“Dude what are you doing?”  
“Tantra! You have to let everything go and concentrate on your connectivity to your partner and environment.”  
“Ooh let me try this then” I said grinning.  
“Try this position with me” he said, shifting his body. He sat down cross legged and had me sit on his thighs facing him. I put my legs behind his neck and we looked at each other.  
“Just concentrate on your breathing” he instructed me. I took a deep breath and yawned.  
“This might make me fall asleep” I said. He said nothing and I fell silent and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling. I stared into his beautiful eyes. I relaxed and cleared my mind but I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. What went on in that brilliant mind of his. Was he analyzing my behavior, and judging me based on it? Was he imagining someone else he made love to long ago? Surely not, I thought, he was a man that was ready for his next challenge, not that I was much of a challenge. My mind is drifting again... I told myself. Think about the breath. This was hard and I practiced this in mediation normally too. I waited for him to do anything but he just held his position on.  
“This would be easier if I were high...” I said.  
“High on what?”  
“I don’t know know”  
“Pick your poison?  
“It’s 8:30 in the morning...”  
“Time is arbitrary.”  
“Hmm... umm...Cocaine?”  
“Ah, cocaine! Let me see!” He said. He got up off the bed and hurried to the closet. “I have a lockbox just for these occasions.” He took out a sealed bag of white powdery silt and placed it in front of me.”  
“Mhmm I knew LA was good for something” I said eagerly with my eyes fixed on the drug.  
“This stuff is like salt here” Jim said. He shook out some from the bag and laid it on my stomach. He separated it into two thin lines and snorted one into his nostril easily.  
“Woo!” He exclaimed, “hot dog, I feel a million bucks, and how!”  
He snorted the second line.  
“Let me do it off your ass” I demanded. He obliged and bent over so I could lay out a thin long line on his ass cheek. I covered one nostril with my finger and sucked in the cocaine in the other. Part of the back of my throat fell numb. I shivered. I then ran my hands across his ass cheeks.  
“Can we take a shower?” I asked.  
“What about a bath?” He suggested.  
“Check this out.” He got up and took me to a side room off of the bedroom which contained a large marble hot tub. I grinned excitedly.  
“Yesss. This looks perfect!” He started the water running and I looked at the array of soaps and lotions that were displayed on a shelf next to the tub.  
“Country fresh peach, lemon yellow extract, maple pine, beach waves, citrus surprise” I read them off. “They all sound good.”  
“Pour them all in if you want” he said. He took out two big round lilac candles and lit them. I grabbed “deep plum body lotion” from the shelf.  
When the water was full in the tub, Jim started the jets and bubbles formed on the surface of the water. He also switched on colored lights that would change every few seconds. Already being naked I slipped into the hot tub and sat on the underwater bench.  
“Ahhh... this is really nice” I said.  
“Thanks” he said, as he climbed in next to me. He put his arm around me and we chilled for a few minutes. Then he said “oh! I’ll be right back” and he got the bag of cocaine and a mirror. “I really don’t do this much...”  
“But you have a supply ready to go...”  
“For the right people who visit” he replied. I closed my eyes and sighed. “The right people who visit indeed.”  
He took the deep plum body lotion and began rubbing some on my shoulders. It smelled sweet and purply for sure. He massaged my shoulders and worked on a knot I had there. He smoothed my skin with the lotion and my back was all shiny.  
“I love how soft your skin is” he said. He caressed the back of my neck and up to my ears. Nobody had ever given me a proper massage before, not like this, and I was loving every second. He was delicate with me but deep enough to work out the kinks. The steam was making my mouth dry though, and I asked him for something to drink.  
“Anything you want” he said, “I have a huge pantry of stuff.”  
“How about some lemonade?”  
“You have great taste” he replied, “be right back.”  
I stretched out in the spacious hot tub and closed my eyes. Even though the cocaine was making me energetic, I still felt deeply relaxed, and I even wondered about falling asleep in the water. I looked at the bag of cocaine siting on the corner or the tub but decided to wait to until Jim came back. I had completely forgotten about my sad worries, for now. He came back with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.  
“Hurry up so we can do more cocaine” I insisted.  
“I should have asked already, but have you done cocaine much before?” He asked, setting down the drinks next to the hot tub and climbing back in.  
I laughed, “Yeah I have a bunch of times. Haven’t for a while though.”  
“Yeah me either”Jim replied. He picked up the drugs and the mirror “so let’s do some more, god damn it!”  
He pinched some of the powder and formed two thick lines with it.  
“This oughta do” he said, handing me the mirror.  
I lowered my nose to the mirror and inhaled one of the lines. I felt a rush in my head and I grinned broadly. Jim inhaled the other line and then set out two more, equally thick lines. I grinned at him, eyes wide open and alert.  
“Let’s party, man” I said, and I kicked My feet in the water, causing some to splash out of the tub.  
Jim returned my grin and put his fist in the air, “fuck yeah!” He declared.  
We both snorted another line. I felt extremely alert and began shaking my foot repetitively and rocking back and forth with excitement. Jim laughed at me and did an impression of a hyperactive child. I said  
“I feel like I’ve been struck by lightening” and did an impression of that. Jim splashed me with water and I splashed him back. I drank some lemonade and felt very refreshed.  
“Ahh” I sighed. I stretched out in the tub and put my arms around Jim. He grabbed me in a big bear hug and kissed me. “Mmmmm” I moaned, and stuck my tongue forcefully in his mouth, then began to choke on my own saliva. He handed me my glass of lemonade and I took a swig. I sighed and laid back on his firm, wet chest.  
“Don’t get me wrong” I laughed, “I wanna make out with you, but you’re also really comfortable.” He kissed me on the cheek.  
“Either works for me.”  
I quickly got fidgety and sat up in the water again. I smirked, amused at my own behavior.  
“More nose tobacco?” He asked.  
“Haha, more? Umm, yes” I replied. We each did another line. I licked my lips and looked hungrily at my friend. He grinned and we begin making out passionately. I pushed him up against the side of the tub and devoured his mouth, then turned to his neck and scraped his flesh with my teeth. He groaned deeply and I began lightly chewing on his neck, interjecting with my lips and tongue as well as teeth. He took me and pushed me against the side of the tub and water splashed out and dowsed one of the flames of the candles. We didn’t care, we kept kissing heavily and stroking each other. My hand felt down and took ahold of his penis. It was already rock hard and ready for duty. A shiver ran through my whole body and I realized my heart was going very fast. Whatever, I thought, I’m on cocaine and fucking around so that makes sense. I wanted to feel Jim inside me again but I also wanted to savor the moment. Cocaine wanted things to go much faster.  
“So much for tantra” I said, “let’s go to the bed.” Jim agreed and brought the candles out to the bedroom and the cocaine as well. Jim laid down towels on the bed so it wouldn’t get wet. We each snorted two more lines. The candles seemed really bright for my eyes so I blew one out and climbed on top of Jim and began going down on him. His cock stood up waiting for me as I licked all the way down his body. I did not want to go slow; I speedily got down to his penis and placed it in my mouth. I began sucking him vigorously, not trying to go too deep but rather trying to keep a good repetition. I moved my head in and out on his cock and held his balls tightly in my hand. I looked up at him with his cock still in my mouth and he was watching me with wide eyes. He stroked my hair and closed his eyes and laid back even more. I began licking his balls and then moved down to his perineum. I rubbed my fingers on his hole and he did not object. I put my fingers in my mouth to wet them and stroked his hole, getting it wet. I rubbed his hole gently, not entering, just making a circular motion like I was polishing a doorknob. I moved back and laid down on my stomach on the bed so that I had better access to the goods. I began flicking my tongue softly on his hole and he let out a sigh. I looked up at him to gauge his thoughts but his eyes were closed and his head was tilted back. He was obviously having a gay old time. I resumed licking him with my tongue and then started to move more forcefully and use my fingers while I licked. I sucked his balls and petted his asshole, then took his cock in my mouth once more and sucked. I rubbed his asshole while I sucked on him and he moaned. I then sat up and grabbed the bag of cocaine, took a little bit and snorted a line off his abdomen. It wasn’t a very big line, so I sat up properly, and set out a very thick, long line of coke for my snorting pleasure.  
“Be careful, baby” he told me. It took two full snorts to inhale all of the powder. My nose was incredibly itchy. My whole face was itchy. So was my head. Every time I scratched an itch a new one would pop up. I sneezed.  
“Bless you” he said. “Do you want to take a break?”  
“No, I’m okay” I replied. I started sucking him off again. I began to suck very fast in and out, in and out, in out, with good rhythm and form, my tongue pushed to the roof of my mouth and then licking him while he was inside me. I concentrated all my efforts on sucking his cock and on making him cum. I got deeper and deeper until he was inside the back of my throat. I gagged but I pushed on. My gag reflex was very strong but I kept on pushing it for him. I did my best to maintain a deep throat rhythm but I was getting tired. My head started to feel weird and I felt very hot and tense. I wanted to make him cum so I kept going, but my heart was racing rapidly and it was concerning me. I stopped what I was doing and told Jim I was getting a glass of lemonade. When I got down from the bed and stood up, the room was spinning and a little hazy. It was really bright even with just the one candle. My heart was thumping in my chest and I felt a pang of high anxiety flash over me. I brought the pitcher of lemonade and the glasses over the bed and took a long cold drink. It helped my throat, but I still felt super anxious. I felt compelled to rub my tongue against my teeth over and over. I sat down without saying a word and leaned back against the headboard. “Can you turn off the candle?” I asked. Jim blew it out. The space was dark and that felt better. But my head was still spinning and my mind racing. I tried to slow down my heart by taking some long deep breathes, but it didn’t change rates.  
“Are you okay?” Jim asked me. I shrugged.  
“I think I just did too much” I replied calmly. “This was potent stuff.”  
Jim sat up, concerned. I didn’t open my eyes or react. I was trying to steady myself.  
“You’ll be okay” he encouraged me. “It’ll wear off in a bit.”  
“Yeah... in a few hours” I replied, annoyed.  
“Why don’t you lie down” he suggested, and I lay down on my back. My arms were really itchy and I scratched at them, annoyed.  
“Come here baby” he said, and I let him adjust my body so that I was laying on his chest. He rested his head against mine and held me in his arms.  
“That does feel better.” I muttered. He kissed my forehead. He placed his hand on my heart and felt it beating. He rubbed the spot, and although it didn’t slow down, I felt calmer.  
“Just relax... we can lay here in the dark and everything will be okay...”  
“Mmm, I know it will be. I definitely feel okay when I’m with you, at least” I said. My anxiety started up. I hoped that wasn’t too forward a thing to say. Jim didn’t seem to think so.  
“I feel okay with you, too” he whispered in my ear. I snuggled into him and felt completely warm and safe. Even though I kept rubbing my tongue against my teeth compulsively, the world did appear to slow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of drugs, sex, and partying, a young female (insert yourself) has a deep conversation with actor and comedian Jim Carrey about happiness.

I wasn’t able to fall asleep for a long time, the cocaine assured of that. I felt somewhat embarrassed that I couldn’t handle myself but I was also beginning to feel more comfortable around Jim and assumed that he was not judging me as I feared he could be. After all, Jim had taken me into his home and spent an entire twenty fours with me, and he didn’t seem to be in a rush to have me leave, either, so when I woke up at 8 pm that night, I really did not know what to think. I could have gone back to sleep and stayed that way through the night had Jim not gotten up to answer his phone. When I woke up I felt drained and sad even though nothing was going wrong. That’s the downside to doing drugs, I thought. I wasn’t anxious anymore, but that feeling had been replaced with familiar melancholy. Drugs sometimes got me to expose all of the worries that were festering in my subconscious while I was trying to ignore them, and that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to confess things to my friend that I worried would put him off to me. I didn’t know what he wanted to do.  
“How do you feel?” He asked, when seeing that I was up.  
“Not great” I replied. “All my dopamine has been used up so that’s one thing...”  
“Are you taking anti depressants?” He asked me.  
“Yes, and I honestly don’t think they’re helping at all. I still have all the classic symptoms of depression.” I listed them off; “lack of energy, motivation, and pleasure, fatigue, sadness, sleeping and eating too much, little interest in formerly fun activities, suicidal thoughts and urges... you know the drill.” I curled up on my side and felt the weight and pressure of sadness blanket me. “I’m really tired of it. It’s bad enough when it happens after doing a drug, but having it happen every day without any reason for it or anything bad even happening is really hard to deal with. Even though it’s the middle of the summer, the sun is out, the weather is nice, I’m on vacation, and I’m hanging out with friends, I’m still sad. I’m sad by the time it becomes night, and when I’m falling asleep. I’m only 22 but I feel worn down and sick all the time. I’m not sure what exactly I’m doing wrong. It feels like my brain is just wrong in itself, and I suppose it is, since I have biological depression after all. I don’t know what to do Jim, I don’t know how I’m supposed to overcome this when I myself am the problem. I hate being sad all the time and bringing others down. Even though you probably know what I’m talking about, nobody wants to be around such a sad person. I don’t. That’s why I get tired of myself and don’t want to be alone. But really, I’m lonely, and I don’t know if I’ll ever not feel that way. I mean, even if everything were perfect, and I had a great career and lots of friends and a great partner, I still don’t think I would be satisfied. It feels like there’s some secret to life that I don’t know. They say depression isn’t a lack of happiness but a lack of vitality... and I hate that, cause it’s absolutely true. Man, sorry I’m complaining so much. I know you just woke up. I just need to vent. There’s been a lot of excitement the past two days and I have to come back to reality at some point, I guess.”  
I didn’t even look at Jim. I didn’t want anymore vulnerability. Jim took my hand and held it. He didn’t say anything at first, then he stroked my face.  
“Sweetheart, look who you’re talking to. I’ve been living that life for 57 years. Not to minimize your suffering at all, but I do understand. I get it, I get it all... Sometimes I don’t know how I’ve gotten to the place I’m at now. Years of trial and error maybe. Lots of man hours sitting alone with myself and asking myself who I am and what I want. How do I want others to see me? Do I want others to see me at all? Giving myself permission to be happy, and do what I love. Be with people that make me happy. Stand up for what I believe in and try to be a worthwhile part of society. It is overwhelming, but I’ve found a little peace in knowing that it’s like that for everyone. I’m not alone in my mind the way I think I am, and neither are you. I’ve known you for only a day and I can tell that you are just starting out in this world, and you already know so much. As you grow and change, you’re going to discover new forms of vitality and appreciation for life. Life is beautiful. It’s a gift, the most important gift one can receive. And it is easy to take it for granted when your demons are constantly whispering in your ear that things aren’t what they seem. And you get complacent, and comfortable in that routine doubt and fear, and you question why you’re allowed to be happy in this moment, and whether you’re happy enough. But as time goes by you’ll come to accept that happiness is very fleeting, and you become comfortable in the bittersweet moments because that’s the best you can do sometimes. I hope you understand what I’m getting at.”  
“I do understand” I said, “but it sounds like you’re saying that it’s not really going to change, that we have to just settle for a mediocre time.”  
“Try not to look at it as settling, but as finding new ways to enjoy life, and seeing the potential in a less than perfect situation” he explained. “You told me about the mindfulness you’ve been doing. That’s an excellent way of reproaching a negative mindset. These expectations... some are set by our role models; our parents, our teachers, are elected officials. Some are set by religions and social constructs invented a long time ago in human history. But many of them are set by our own fears, our fears of rejection and failure, non conformity, ostracism, the unknown, prejudice, false bravado, ego, entitlements. It’s all subjective and utterly meaningless. We are nothing more than atomic matter with consciousness, some would argue too much consciousness, were all just... star dust, specs of galaxies infinite and inexplicable.”  
“Why are you reading my mind?” I smiled.  
“I guess the two of us have a lot in common” he shrugged.  
“I think that’s really amazing” I said.  
“It’s too bad that I have to leave in a few days...”  
He mimed dialing a phone and answering it. “Hello? Oh yes, I just need to remind someone of the miracles of technological communication!” I laughed. “I will. Call. You.” He spelled out for me. “Unless you prefer old fashioned letter writing.”  
“I actually like writing letters, I think it’s fun!” I said. “But you could call me. We could be pen pals too.”  
“Why would we be pen pals if you’re going to live here?” He asked teasingly.  
“ ahh, just let me move into one of your spare bedrooms and pay rent” I joked. “But seriously, will you really call me?”  
“We can make paintings over the phone” he said. “You can tell me what colors to use.”  
“I’ll describe a beautiful sunset and have you paint it with no visual clues. It’s not like painting is a visual medium.”  
“Or you could just come to the beach with me and we could both look at a sunset.”  
“You’re going to come to Milwaukee?”  
“No, you’re going to come to California and rent my spare bedroom. Is that not what we just agreed to?”  
I chuckled. “Don’t tease me like that, I really do want to come here” I said.  
“Not to be obvious, but you’re already here” he said. “Why leave if you’re just going to come back?”  
“Ahh, do you really think that I should move here?”  
“I think you know what you want and that you’re looking for me to point out the answer you want to hear from yourself” he said simply.  
“You’re a regular Dr. Phil, Jim” I scoffed. But I also felt uplifted. And really tired. I snuggled into my friend. He snuggled into me too. What more can I really ask for? I thought. We fell asleep together close and warm and cozy. As I was lying there in the dark with him, I kept having a reoccurring thought. I love this man. Okay, I don’t love him, but I have a deep and strong affection for him that I’m not sure how to express. Well, I’m expressing it right now, I thought. Our bodies are intertwined. But I want to explain to him how I really feel about him. Should I say anything? Will it ruin things if I do? I feel like I’ve known him for a long time, and spending intimate time with him confirms that feeling. Just shut up and go to sleep, I told myself. And, eventually, I did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) enjoys a day exploring L.A with actor and comedian Jim Carrey. The two begin with an erotic shower and follow with shopping, antiquing, and swimming at a private beach.

I awoke around 7 am the next morning as confirmed by my phone. I had a text from my Mom asking how things were going. I responded that I was having a good time and didn’t want to leave. She said that maybe in the future I could come back there to visit. I told her that I intended to move there and she said that it wasn’t realistic. You don’t have enough money, she told me. I didn’t respond further. Jim was still asleep so I just laid there beside him until I drifted back off again. When I next awoke it was at Jim’s behest around 11 am.  
“My cleaning service is here” he informed me. “They won’t bother us but we need to stay out of their way for a few hours.” My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten in a day and now that the cocaine was out of my system, I actually had an appetite again.  
“I’m starving” I told Jim.  
“Okay, lets get some food before they make it to the kitchen.” Jim gave me some random shirt and shorts of his to wear and groggily I followed him to the kitchen. “An omelette is quick” he said. He got out a frying pan and eggs and started making breakfast. He made some toast and I spread jelly on it while he folded the eggs and put in bacon and cheese. He warmed up some sausage links in the microwave and made us both some tea. We sat down to breakfast and quietly ate it while we listened to the cleaning people work in the next room over. Once we had finished, we headed back to the bedroom. “I think I’m going to take a shower” Jim said.  
“Can I join you?” I asked. Jim slapped me on the ass. He led me to the bathroom where there was a regular tub and shower. He stepped in and I followed. The water helped to wake me up and it felt pleasant on my face. Jim rubbed his own eyes and yawned, then grabbed a bar of green island soap and began scrubbing his arms with it.  
“Do me too?” I asked him. He grinned.  
“M’lady!” He took the soap and rubbed it against my chest. Green perfumey bubbles spread all over me. He rubbed the soap along my arms and shoulders and neck, then along my back and ass. He spread the soap on my inner thighs and down to my feet. Then he rinsed my body off with the water. He then took some coconut body wash and began massaging my breasts with it. My large breasts were sleek with soap and glistened in the water. He spread the lotion down my thighs and onto my ass, spreading my cheeks apart and grabbing them possessively in his hands.  
“Is it bad that I want you to spank me?” I laughed.  
“Feeling submissive?” He inquired.  
“I don’t know about submissive, just playful” I said. “But I could try being submissive if you want.” He rinsed off the lotion from my body leaving my skin feeling soft and smooth.  
He took some shampoo and began lathering my hair with it. It was relaxing to have someone else do all these things for me and massage me. He rinsed off my head. Then he ruffled up my hair.  
“Job well done” I commented.  
“Thank you” he replied, “now I need you to do something for me.” He beckoned to the floor of the tub. I sat down on the floor and waited, bemused. He handed me the soap. “Start washing” he commanded.  
“Jim, this is an imbalance of power” I laughed. “I’m not going to do this.” He laughed and helped me up.  
“Maybe I’m out of practice on how to be dominant” he said. I started washing him with the soap.  
“Maybe it’s too early in the morning for this sort of thing.” I washed his body and hair and then rinsed him off in the shower. I caressed his strong shoulders and chest, and grabbed a fist full of his ass.  
“I’d let you spank me too” he said. “Spank you very much.”  
“I’m not very brushed up on my dominance either” I admitted.  
“I guess we could look it up on the internet later. But also, I should really get my car...”  
“I’ll come with you” he said. “You know, if you want to, you could stay here with me the next few days and skip the hotel...”  
“But I already paid for the hotel” I said.  
“But there’s... certain services you can get here that you can’t at the hotel” he replied, rubbing his hands up and down my body. “I’ll help you move your stuff if you want. And I can show you around the city. Where were you planning to go?”  
“I already visited some of the major areas, I mainly wanted to get out and check out the nightlife and photograph the lights and stuff. Maybe check out some art or whatever.”  
“I could show you a lot of cool places. And I was thinking... if you didn’t have to be back, you could extend your vacation a little while longer, if you had more things to see.”  
“ That would be really awesome! A week isn’t enough time. I haven’t even been to the beach yet.”  
“ Well, I have a washer and dryer you can use to get the most out of your clothes. We should get dressed and get your stuff, and then make a plan of what you want to visit.”  
I clapped my hands excitedly.  
“This is going to be a great vacation. I mean... I technically have the whole summer to bum around before I go back to school.”  
“Yeah Im not doing squat this summer” Jim said. “So I guess I’ve got a room mate for a while. You can have your own room too” he added. “Let’s get your stuff.”  
We got out of the shower, dried off, and I looked through Jim’s clothes for something to wear. I picked out a Jim Morrison shirt and some cargo shorts that were very long for me. He gave me a spare toothbrush so I could clean my teeth, and I used his deodorant. It was very surreal to be sharing Jim’s appliances. Jim called a cab to take us to where my car was hopefully still parked. Luckily it was there, with only two parking tickets on it.  
“Don’t worry about these” he said. We got in the car which was extremely hot from being in the sun, and I put in the address to the hotel in my phone. It was 30 minutes away.  
“Wanna check out my music collection?” I asked, handing him my phone.  
“Oh yes” he replied. He scrolled through my library.  
“Haha! The Talking Heads! Love it!” He put on the song And She Was and we began driving. Being LA, there was a lot of traffic, but we didn’t mind, because Jim kept pointing out things to me and giving me details on random places and people. Once, while parked at a stop sign, the car next to us rolled down its window and called out “Jim Carrey! Hey Jim!” Jim waved to them and did a peace sign. I felt so lucky that I was just hanging out with someone of his celebrity status. It wasn’t the status that i cared about; it was that I had VIP access to someone so beloved around the world.  
“I try to maintain a low profile most of the time” Jim informed me as the light turned green and his fans drove off. “If we go somewhere public we have to be careful that we avoid the paparazzi. I can see the tabloid headline now; ‘Jim Carrey Spotted With Younger Girl’... god... in this social justice warrior climate they’d probably be like ‘Jim Carrey taking advantage of young woman? Aging actor creeps on girl in LA.’” I cracked up.  
“Man you’re totally right, we’ll be careful.” We made it to The Ambassador hotel and I tried to remember where my room was. When I found it, I got in, packed up my things, and Jim took them to the car while I checked out early. After that, we decided to head to a few antique shops that I had looked up earlier. They were supposed to be quirky and have weird odds and ends, which was right up my alley. They did not disappoint, and Jim bought me a bunch of random statues in the shapes of penises, a lava lamp, a painting of a psychedelic forest, and a whole load of retro 80s shirts. He picked up some 70s interior decorating magazines for himself. I didn’t want to bring my camera into the store but I took many photos with my phone. After shopping there, we checked out an erotic boutique featuring all outer space and alien themed sex toys. Neither of us bought anything until we ventured into the seedy basement of the place which was selling glass alien dildos and pipes. We bought a matching weed pipe and dildo both of which were curvy, lime green with gold glittery stars, and which had big alien eyes carved into it the shafts. 

Next, we hit up a shop that sold marijuana infused drinks. After sampling the strawberry banana smoothies, we bought a case to go and decided to save those for later. For a late lunch, we picked up sandwiches, and then Jim said he was going to take me to a private beach where we weren’t going to be bothered. It took some navigating and me getting turned around a few times, but we managed to locate the hidden entrance to the beach. By the time we did this, the sun was reaching the golden hour, and everything was bathed in beautiful yellow light. I couldn’t take enough pictures of all the palm trees, buildings, signs, and interesting people walking down the street.  
“Tomorrow, I promise, we can spend the whole day just taking pictures” Jim told me, as we headed down the path to the secret beach entrance. “But I really want to show you this spot before sunset, it’s absolutely gorgeous.”  
I had no complaints; I was totally enjoying the day and wanted to see what Jim had in store for us. We followed a sandy path which led into a small forested area. Through the forest we walked until the path opened up onto a completely empty beach. The sand was soft and white, there were few rocks, and there was nothing surrounding us but ocean on one side, and trees on the other. The sun was low in the sky, and pink clouds were starting to appear above us. The ocean was lazily bobbing and the tide was low, coming up only so far onto the white sand. A few seagulls were gathered nearby but otherwise the place was totally ours. It was a serene atmosphere. This is really cool” I told my companion, “how did you even learn about this place?”  
“Tom Hanks actually told me” Jim replied. “Apparently he learned about it from Martin Short and Steve Martin.”  
I grinned.  
“What can be a better source than that?” I asked aloud. Jim chuckled. Then he pointed to a spot on the beach and said  
“Race you!” He took off kicking sand behind him. I jogged behind him, the sand making it difficult to go very fast. He took off his sandals and sunglasses and laid them down on the sand. I took off my shoes and socks and put away my camera. I had my swim suit from the hotel but had forgotten to bring a towel. Jim had neither a suit nor a towel. 

I walked towards the ocean and tipped my toe into the water, expecting a sensation of iciness.  
“Wow, the water’s actually pretty nice” I called to Jim who was behind me. When I turned around to look at him I saw him stepping deliberately towards the shore, completely naked.  
“Oh my god, Jim” I laughed. I shook my head and covered my eyes. “And you said you keep a low profile? What if someone sees you?”  
“I’m not worried about that, skipper” he said. “Plus, no one can tell when you’re in the water anyway.”  
“I guess so...” he stepped into the water and confirmed his decision.  
“Yep, perfect temperature for nude bathing.” He looked at me. “Are you going to join me?”  
I looked around the deserted beach. Then quickly took off my clothes and laid them away from the water. Jim smiled and held out his hand for mine. Together we walked into the ocean and felt the waves crash around us.  
“I feel like I’m in The Awakening” I told him. He laughed.  
“Not suicidal though?” He asked.  
“Definitely not, I’m having a great time!” Eventually the water got too deep for me to walk anymore and Jim was only standing on his toes. I plucked up the courage and dove under the surface, submerging myself entirely in the ocean. Jim laid out on his back, floating. I splashed him playfully. He tickled me under the water and grabbed me. I hung onto his shoulders and started into his puppy dog brown eyes.  
“What?” He asked me.  
“Nothing. Just admiring you” I replied cheekily.  
“Admiring me? But you’re not looking at my ass?” He joked.  
“Could’ve fooled me” I retorted snarkily.  
He fake gasped. “I am going to need to spank you for that eventually.” He smacked my ass a few times. I looked up at the sunset happening above us. The formerly pink clouds were now a brilliant shade of violet. There was also hints of orange and purple.  
“It looks like that painting we made” I remarked. We should make another one.”  
“We should make a lot of things.”  
“Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight” I sang annoyingly in his ear. His eyes softened and he kissed me unexpectedly. It was a truly magical moment.  
“Queue the choir” I said as we broke apart to breathe.  
“What?”  
“Queue the choir, an angelic choir of Cupids to serenade our romantic evening.”  
“I could take you to a place that’s only a few beats off from that” he said. “If you wanted to eat something besides cold spaghetti for dinner.”  
“That would be preferable” I said. “Not eating cold spaghetti and being serenaded romantically.”  
“I just need to make one call and it’s done.” We enjoyed the water and sunset until it got dark and then attempted to dry off without any towels and put on our clothes again. Very wet and dripping with water, we found our way to my car and Jim drove us back to his house. He called the aforementioned establishment and made a reservation for 9:45 pm.  
“I don’t exactly have any formal wear packed with me” I confessed to Jim.  
“We could always match” he told me. He went to his closet and took out a white collared shirt.  
“Try this?”  
I put on the shirt which was too long, and accompanied it with the pair of jeans I had packed with me. I tucked in the shirt and it looked somewhat less ridiculous. Jim opened up another closet which contained his collection of ties. I looked them over carefully before deciding on a bright yellow tie with pink flowers.  
“I’m just in a really happy mood” I explained. “Can you tie it for me?”  
“Yes, sir, I mean ma’m” he kidded.  
“We’re going to be a very handsome couple” I stated proudly. “A couple of buffoons.”  
“A couple of sexy adorable buffoons.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) is taken out to an extravagant themed restaurant by actor and comedian Jim Carrey.

Twenty minutes later, we were both ready to go out. Jim was dressed in a snappy black shirt and blue striped tie. He combed his hair back and he looked very handsome. I was wearing a white shirt of his with a yellow tie and had used some gel to stick my hair up. We both used the same cologne, and were all set for a night out! Jim called a limo to drive us to the restaurant, although he wouldn’t tell me where it was.  
“It’s not like I’m going to know what it is anyway” I told him, but he still wanted it to be a surprise. The city was full of life that night and everyone seemed to be out, even though it was just a Wednesday. Traffic was heavy and we spent a long time in the limo listening to Miles Davis and watching the cars barely move next to us. The neon lights in LA were absolutely fantastic.  
“I love neon lights” I told Jim. “They’re one of my major aesthetics. Tomorrow I want to photograph them, okay?”  
He nodded. I noticed he looked a little solemn, but I figured he was just anxious about dealing with people in such a busy restaurant. The limo took us past bars and clubs galore, the different colors flashing before my eyes and reflecting off of the windows. I was really excited. So far the day had been perfect, so I couldn’t wait to see the night life, chauffeured by my own personal Jim Carrey. Some time later we made it to the club in question; The Time.  
“The Time?” I asked, gazing up at the electric orange and purple sign. The letters were sharp and jagged, and there was a huge purple, glowing clock ticking out in front. We stepped out of the limo and Jim grabbed my hand.  
“It’s easy to get lost in this place” he told me, guiding us to the entrance. A door man checked us out and nodded for us to go in. We swung open the large black doors and entered The Time. The foyer was decorated in a prehistoric jungle theme, with life-like vines twisting around the ceiling and jaguar printed carpet lining the welcome area. I noticed right away that The Time’s “Jungle Love” was playing on the speakers. It won me over instantly.  
“Welcome to The Time” a young hostess addressed us. “Have you been with us before?”  
“Yes” Jim answered, confidently smiling.  
“Excellent, so which period do you want to start in?”  
“I think we’ll start from the 20s and work our way up” Jim replied.  
“Alright, follow me this way please” the hostess said. She led us down a long hall and into a room divided into two sections.  
“Smoking or non smoking?” She asked us.  
Jim turned to me.  
“Have you ever smoked a pipe?”  
“What kind of pipe?” I joked. He winked at me.  
“We’ll take smoking please.”  
The hostess led us into the smoking section. My eyes scanned the room, greatly amused. The whole place was decorated like it was the 1920s. Bebop music trumpeted from the speakers, and smoke snaked around the room, fogging it. The walls were printed with a brilliant Art Deco style pattern, as were the floors and ceiling. There were ornate golden street lamps carefully sticking from the walls, and a glittering white chandelier sparkling above the black velvet booths and tables. We were seated in one such booth, and I plopped down into the soft velvet seat.  
“The 1920s?” I inquired. He confirmed;  
“each section of the restaurant is a different decade!” This enthralled me. “The best food selection is in the 1920s, but there’s a great bar and dancing area in each section.” A pretty black waitress dressed in a 1920s flapper dress approached our table.  
“Hey there friends, glad you can join us here in 1920s Harlem, where jazz is the latest fashion, and alcohol is currently illegal. Don’t worry though, a couple of bootleggers have been helping out our establishment, and if you can keep it our little secret, we can help you to still have a mighty fine time here!” I grinned, loving all of the theatrics. “We also offer a variety of tobacco products and complimentary pipes.” She produced two skinny mahogany pipes and placed them in front of us. “Here are your menus, and can I start you off with anything fun right away?”  
I glanced over the drink menu. All of the drinks had thematic names.  
“Can I try The Harlem Renaissance?” Jim asked. “And some of that fine black licorice tobacco as well?”  
“I’ll have The Grape Gatsby and some blueberry tobacco” I ordered.  
“I’ll have that to you shortly” the waitress said.  
“The Grape Gatsby, a fruity purple drink of blended grapes, strawberries, and vodka, on ice” I read off. “God this place is awesome.”  
“I knew you’d appreciate it” he said, beaming his white teeth at me.  
“Well, I love jazz, and the art style, and the fashion, and the poetry, and all of it! Look, there’s a stage and a dance floor!” The floor and stage were empty but a few musicians were milling around with their instrument cases in hand.  
“They play live swing music here” Jim told me. “And I think I saw a black poetry group here once too. A local club for black poets to get some exposure, just like Harlem.”  
“Let’s bring all of this back” I said, “but leave behind the inequalities, and the drinking laws.” Jim picked up his menu and began perusing it. I glanced at my own. I decided on the chicken club sandwich when our waitress brought us our drinks and tobacco. We placed our orders and Jim broke open the packet of tobacco and poured it into his pipe. He then opened a container of matches on the table and lit the pipe. He took a few puffs of it to get it smoking and then did the same for mine. The blueberry smoke tasted sweet in my mouth, even though I coughed when inhaling it.  
“Is smoking a pipe considered a lady like activity in this period?” I wondered aloud. We looked around and every woman in the section was enjoying a pipe of her own. I jolted upright when I heard a saxophone start jamming from the stage. The band was getting ready to perform. Another black girl in a short purple dress stepped to the microphone and introduced herself and the band. Then, the group began playing a song I recognized.  
“This is fucking Zut Suit Riot!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe I was hearing a live performance of the classic swing song. A few couples got up onto the floor and started dancing. One fat, older man was attempting to do The Charleston, but he was too drunk to keep up with the fast paced song, and kept doubling over in laughter.  
“I’m not quite drunk enough to try that” I told my companion.  
“Oh, give it time” he told me, “we have a lot more time for dancing. Only the 1920s and 2000s serve meals, the other decades just have a bar and lounge, and a dance floor.”  
“I hope they serve cocaine in the 80s one” I laughed.  
“And heroin in the 90s one?”  
“What about opium in the 1930s?” I said.  
“They have the 1920s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s sections” he told me. “I forget if they have a futuristic section or not.”  
“Those are all the best decades” I said. “Can we have a drink in all of them?”  
“We can have as many drinks as you like” he replied. “Cheers” and raised his glass. “To alcohol being legalized” he said. I took a big sip of my drink. I could barely taste the vodka in it, which was exactly how I liked to drink.  
I was enjoying myself immensely, listening to the swing band and smoking my pipe.  
“This is my favorite restaurant ever. I don’t think I want to even leave the 1920s!”  
“It was either this or Hooters” Jim replied. “I figured this one was a little classier.”  
“What’s classier than bootlegged alcohol, swing music, and pipe smoke everywhere? Nothing, the answer is nothing.”  
“Well, I’m partial to the 80s, but I did come up back then” Jim commented.  
The waitress brought us our food and I ordered a second Grape Gatsby.  
“I think you’d look hot in a zut suit” I told Jim, between mouthfuls of my club sandwich.  
“So would you, girl.”  
The band started playing a slow number. I looked around at the couples dancing and thought about asking Jim. Maybe if we were alone I would have, but I didn’t want anyone to look at us, so I said nothing. We enjoyed the 20s for quite a while but eventually Jim asked if I wanted to move on and I said yes. We exited the room and followed a staircase with a sign pointing to “the 1950s.”  
“Damn, I love the 50s even more than the 20s. I love rock and roll so damn much” I swooned. The 1950s section also was divided into smoking and non smoking, and we chose non smoking. The whole thing looked like something out of Grease. The waitresses were wearing pink poodle skirts and the waiters all had slicked back greaser hair. There weren’t any booths, but there were small tables scattered around the room facing a stage and dance floor. There was a bar in the back. I saw someone being served a chocolate milkshake and grinned. The stage was occupied by a rock and roll band. They were playing a cover of Rock Around the Clock while a crowd of people danced wildly.  
“This is what I like to see” I nodded approvingly. “Every club should be like this. I want to hear this in every single club and bar around the country.”  
“You want Bill Haley to be played while teenagers grind on each other?” He laughed.  
“Yes! What is sexier than Shake, Rattle, and Roll? It sounds like a euphemism for sex anyway.”  
Jim started moving his shoulders and head to the music as if he were listening to a fast techno beat.  
I unironically grooved to the music with my terrible dance moves.  
“Should we find a seat?” We sat down at one of the cleaner empty tables and then immediately stood back up again.  
“We need drinks” I said, and turned directly toward the bar. All of the drinks had thematic names like the other room had.  
“Dude, they spike the shakes” I read aloud. “Could I have a Greased Lightning?”  
“Can I see your I.D?” The bartender asked me. I showed her my license and she handed me a vanilla shake. Jim stopped me from putting my license back into my wallet so he could read it.  
“You were born in 1997?” He asked. “That’s the year I did Liar, Liar... So you’re how old again?”  
“I’m 22” I said. “I’m just a kid, ya pedophile.”  
“But” he joked, “you’ve grown into a fine young woman and I’ve been noticing your physical changes and what can I say, you’re very developed now.” We walked back to the table.  
“Am I even allowed to say these things in this modern age?” He asked.  
“No you’re not“ I said. “You will be called out and blacklisted from Hollywood as being problematic.”  
“Ah” he shrugged. “I’ve been problematic for a while now, I think.”  
“Whatever, man, lets just enjoy the moment and be problematic together now.” I said, drinking my shake. I don’t remember what was in it, but it was very tasty and I drank it pretty quickly. After three drinks I was pretty tipsy and eager to get dancing with my friend, but still too shy to actually do it. Jim had a bigger tolerance than I did so he wasn’t feeling drunk enough to ask me, or maybe he just didn’t want to. I tried to not think about it or worry, so I just danced in my seat, tapping my foot and nodding my head.  
“When I was a teenager” I said, “I was into heavy metal a lot, and I got into headbanging. It kind of gave you a high. But after I started smoking weed, I mellowed out. just a little bit, so I stopped doing it so hard. It’s still like my only form of dancing though.”  
“Do you wanna dance?” He asked me.  
I thought for a moment, but felt too shy. “Nah, maybe another TIME.”  
Jim held up his drink and finished it.  
“Wanna move on up to the 60s?”  
“Let me finish my drink first” I replied, downing the rest of my shake. “Okay, lets check it out.”  
We exited the 50s and walked up a flight of stairs to our next destination. I heard the sound of psychedelic music being played.  
“I definitely want to be in the smoking section of this one” I said.  
“I don’t know if they’ll have that type of smoking” Jim speculated. We entered The 60s. The walls were covered in large pink flowers and the floors were striped lime green and yellow. The dance floor was a rainbow collage of tiles, and my eyes lit up when I saw it.  
“If only I could bring my camera in here” I sighed. “Cause, that’s what I call decor.” On stage was an older woman with reddish hair, wearing a Mondrian inspired dress of blue, yellow, and red squares. She was singing Jefferson Airplane’s Somebody to Love and absolutely killing the vocals.  
“This is a good cover” I noted, nodding my head in approval. “Dude, how do they sound proof these walls so you can’t hear the other bands?” Jim puzzled for a moment, then shrugged.  
“The wonders of modern technology, bringing us the wonders of past technology...” We walked back to the bar and got in line.  
“Bad Trip... haha, should I get that? It’s a cherry flavored drink with hints of lemon and presumably insanity” I said, reading off the menu. “Or maybe Purple Haze? No, that’s more like lavender haze, according to the picture. Oh, maybe Moon Rocks? That’s sprite with vodka, lemonade, strawberry, and grenadine. That sounds pretty good. I think I’ll get that.”  
“Make that two” Jim said. We took our drinks back to the table and sipped them.  
“This is really strong.” I said. “Not really a fan.”  
“Maybe you don’t need to drink here in the 60s” he said. He pointed over to a couple of older men and women laughing and holding cigarettes in their hands.  
“I don’t really like cigarettes too much” I replied.  
“Baby, those aren’t regular cigarettes, those are jazz cigarettes, look.”  
I took a second look at what the people were holding and noted the shape of the cigarettes. Jim did an impression of a stoner.  
“Ohh man, where did they get those?” I asked, looking around.  
“Maybe they brought them from home. Want me to ask?”  
“Hell yes.”  
Jim stood up and approached the couple. They recognized him and talked for a little while, then he returned with a joint in hand.  
“Celebrity privilege” he said, handing me the joint. “People wanna give you stuff.”  
“Thank you.” I took the joint and examined it. “It’s been a while since I smoked a joint. Usually I do pipes or blunts. But the first time I got high I actually used a joint. That was ages ago, when I was 15.”  
“That was what a few months ago?” I scoffed,  
“A year and a few months ago. Speaking of my age, you’re not the oldest guy I’ve been with... Wait, you’re 57? Yes you are. The other guy was 55. He was a real weirdo, a meth addict. But what can I say, he looked like Phil Collins...”  
Jim laughed. “Phil Collins? Known for his smolderingly good looks, and not his affinity for meth.”  
“Don’t talk shit about Phil Collins” I said. “That was the name of my first pipe, too. Phil Collins.”  
“You named your pipe?”  
“Yep. I also had a pipe named David Lee Roth.”  
“You’re not even high and you’re saying this shit.” Jim laughed.  
“Correction, I’m not high YET” I retorted. “But for this to be accomplished. I will the need the assistance of a lighter.”  
“Oh, they gave me one of those too.” Jim pulled out a plain white lighter and handed it to me.  
“They gave you a boring one” I said, playing with the lighter and sparking it a few times. “I always get a cool designed one.”  
“Smoke the weed and maybe a cool design will appear” he said. I flicked the lighter and raised the joint to my lips. I inhaled the smoke and held it for a few seconds before exhaling smoothly.  
“An expert hit” I declared. Then I started coughing.  
“Don’t speak too soon.” I took another hit of the weed and passed it off to Jim. Jim took a surprisingly large hit and held it in until there was nothing left to exhale.  
“You’re a veteran” I said. He took another huge hit and then gestured at me to come close to him. I opened my mouth and he pressed his own against it and blew the smoke into my mouth. I didn’t get much of a hit but I didn’t really care. Jim’s lips met mind and we kissed briefly.  
“That wasn’t a proper hit for you” Jim said. “Not enough weed either.”  
He leaned forward and kissed me fully. I closed my eyes and let him take me away. He handed me the joint.  
“I think I’m good for now.” I said, waving it away. I definitely felt higher after that kiss, no weed needed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) enjoys an evening out in L.A with Jim Carrey and visits the 1980s, then returns to his home for an intimate night.

After finishing the joint, we made our way to the 1970s section of the restaurant. It was just as extravagant as the other sections. In the center of the room was a giant disco ball, spinning and sending light bouncing off every reflective surface. The whole room was covered in shiny mirrors to reflect the light from the disco ball, creating an angelic sparkling around the whole place. The floor was covered in a discotheque dance floor which mimicked the glowing neon style of Saturday Night Fever. The tiles of the floor glowed bright red, blue, and yellow, switching between the three as people danced atop it. This room was the busiest yet, with raucous laughter and chatter sounding amidst the music. There was no band on the stage but the large speakers were thumping along to Michael Jackson’s Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough. I wanted to take a break from drinking since I was already into a mild stupor from the combination of alcohol and marijuana, so we skipped checking out the bar and found a table to settle down at.  
“They better play The Bee Gees” I said loudly. A woman nearby heard my comment and laughed.  
“I believe with the power of disco, that The Bee Gees could have stopped 9/11 if they had been alive...” I joked.  
“With the power of falsetto?” Jim added.  
“Yes.” I looked around, sweating in my tie and collar.  
“Just how high are you?” Jim asked me, leaning in so he wouldn’t be overheard.  
“High enough to be with you in public.”  
“Okay, I’ll just take that as my cue to leave” he said, standing up and pretending to walk away.  
“No don’t go yet” I said, reaching out for him with my hand. “You have to stay so you can get me another drink.” I pointed at the bar. “Go on, fetch, boy.”  
“Someone’s feeling sassy tonight” he remarked. “What is the magic word?”  
“Barry Gibb’s penis” I retorted bluntly.  
“You are one stoned little brat”  
“That may be true, but I’m also drunk” I said happily. I was feeling very pleased with myself.  
“I thought you wanted to take a break?”  
“I do...not anymore.”  
“What do you want me to get you?”  
“Just get me a beer. A Corona.” He got in line at the bar. I scanned the room, observing the people dancing on the floor. I took out my phone and took a few pictures of the glowing tiles. I flipped the camera around and took a selfie with the disco ball in plain sight. I had snapped pictures in every decade so far, but none of me and Jim together. It’s hard to get a selfie when you’re sitting across from the other person. I felt hazy and heavy from the weed, but my mind felt light and unburdened. My head was clear of unwanted thoughts, which was unusual for me. Sometimes when I got high, my anxiety also increased and I wouldn’t be able to think straight. But when the weed and the mood was just right, my anxiety would not increase, and I would feel invincible and free. The booze probably had a lot to do with that too. “I shouldn’t worry about a thing” I told myself out loud. I turned on a video. “I’m in the god damn 1970s and everything is just groovy.” Jim returned with my beer and one for himself. I raised my beer and toasted; “to disco, funk, and everything else that’s groovy!” We clinked drinks and I pushed the slice of lime on the edge of the Corona all the way down into the bottle before taking a big gulp.  
“Ahh. I love this decade even more than the others. I think it’s my favorite decade of all, just based on the music. But if I had to pick my overall favorite decade, I’d have to say the 1980s. I love the music, the fashion, the technology, and the art of that era.” I explained. “I mean you saw all those 80s shirts I wanted.”  
“Yes, and I bought you those shirts too” he said. “And I agree with you, the 80s is the best decade.”  
“Normally I’d wear my retro clothes out on the town but you wanted to dress up.” I poked him in the chest.  
“Did you ever see the movie Earth Girls are Easy?” He asked.  
“Yes I love that movie! Jeff Goldblum was so hot in that... You were hot too, but he was really smoking.”  
“You have a way of flattering me, don’t you? Yes, he was hot at the time. I think he was with Geena Davis then, otherwise I would have gone after him myself. Anyway, I looked really 80s in that movie. It was set in L.A and I was grooving with the times.”  
“Hold up” I demanded. “Listen. Is that the god damn Bee Gees?” I concentrated on the music. It was indeed The Bee Gees. “How Deep Is Your Love!” I exclaimed joyously. “This song is so romantic, I love it so much.” I felt my heart rate speed up as I became anxious. I wanted to dance with Jim, and my stomach was full of butterflies. I felt a shiver run down my back and my leg hair stood on end. There wasn’t going to be a more perfect time than this to dance with him, I thought. But I didn’t know how to slow dance; I didn’t even know how to medium or fast dance regularity. It was one thing to dance around jokingly in his basement, but I was out in public with Jim Carrey, what if someone saw us and took a video of my horrible dancing? I debated for only a few moments though; I was inebriated enough to throw caution away and fulfill my immediate desires.  
How to frame it though? I glanced nervously at the people dancing and then at Jim. Several lines ran through my head at once but I quickly judged all of them to be inadequate.  
“This is a good song for dancing... look at all the people. I haven’t danced in public since I got drunk at this one wedding... I really can’t dance... I don’t know about you, I feel good though. Good enough for putting myself out there. If you wanted, I would try to attempt to dance...”  
“It’s not a colonoscopy” Jim replied. “I think they let about anyone do it.”  
“Don’t laugh at me” I said. “And try not to draw much attention.”  
Jim sighed, standing up. “I’ll do my best, but it’s, you, know, me.” I stood up and led the way to a free spot on the dance floor. Heart racing and lightheaded I turned to face my companion and put my arms around him. He laid his arms around my waist and we began stepping back and forth, slowly rocking together. He swayed to the gentle rhythms of the song and he looked into my eyes. I stepped closer to him so that our chests were touching.  
“There you go” he said to me. I then completely closed my eyes and moved in so that I was able to rest my head on his shoulder. It was more of an embrace than a dancing position, but that wasn’t so unusual for a romantic posture anyway. I felt the heaviness lift away as I was supported by this man. I felt like I was safe and warm lying in bed, even though I was standing in the middle of a populated room with lights and colors flashing and dazzling. I no longer felt anxious, and I barely noticed the music playing loudly from the speakers above. Everything was calmed, slowed, peaceful, and yet I felt momentous. I hugged Jim close to me and squeezed his body to my own. I couldn’t think of anything to say except for “mhmm.” When the song ended I pulled back from him and breathed, “How Deep Is Your Love?”  
“I can get it pretty deep ” He tickled in my ear with his breath.  
My mind was blank. I swung my arms to my sides off of his shoulders and felt his hand, then took it.  
“I really wanna kiss you right now” I admitted. He kissed me on the forehead;  
“Not right here, but later, everywhere. We should move on...”  
So, I took my beer and we headed to the room I was most looking forward to; the 1980s. The 1980s was the most crowded of all, and there weren’t even any seats available.  
The loud thumping of the music jolted me as we stepped into the new decade. White Lines by Grandmaster Flash was blasting in all directions. I held Jim’s hand and felt nervous excitement in my stomach. It felt like something was going to happen. We searched the room for somewhere to sit but all the tables were occupied.  
“Can’t you use your insane fame to get us a spot?” I prodded him.  
“I could, but that wouldn’t be keeping a low profile would it? I have to go to the bathroom, I don’t want to leave you here alone, wanna come?” He asked. Trusting him to know what was best in this situation, I followed him back out of the room and into the hall to the bathrooms. I went into the women’s room and saw several pretty ladies laughing at the sinks.  
“Nice tie” one of them commented to me.  
“Oh” I said, glancing down at my shirt, “thank you.” I couldn’t tell if she was making fun of me or not. Usually I assumed people thought I was a little odd, but at this drunken occasion I was brimming with confidence, so I added “I got it at the gift shop when I visited the sun.” She and her friends laughed and I checked myself out in the mirror. I smoothed my shirt and scrutinized my face and all of its flaws. Jim could have been out with any beautiful woman and here he was with me, a regular average girl. Okay, not that average, I thought, smiling at my shirt and tie. When I was done using the bathroom, I waited for Jim to meet me. He was taking a long time and I wondered if he was stuck talking to some fans. When he finally came out he took me aside and a group of men in suits stepped out of the bathroom and one clapped him on the back. He waved to the man.  
“Here, come with me” he insisted, and he led me into the men’s room.  
“What’s going on?” I asked. He pulled out a baggie of cocaine and dropped it in my hand.  
“What the hell? Where did you get this?”  
“I bought it off a couple of fans.” He grinned. “They really enjoyed Ace Ventura...” I snickered.  
“Wow...”  
“Take this” He said, pulling out a comb from his jacket pocket. He opened a stall for me and I hesitantly went in. I sat down on the toilet and put a bit of cocaine on my phone, and with the comb, spread it into a line. I quickly came back to Jim and we went out of the bathroom and back into the party.  
“I don’t want you to do too much” he told me as we navigated the crowd.  
“But it is the 80s.”  
“I don’t feel tired anymore” I reported. I started dancing on the spot, quite arrhythmically. Jim copied my moves and for the next forty five minutes we danced and made more trips to the bathroom. It was getting a little late though, and we didn’t have a ton of cocaine, so we decided to quickly check out the 90s and 2000s and then leave. The 90s was a grungy depressing scene with music I did not enjoy or know being performed. Jim didn’t mind it, but I had a rule about listening to sad shit. The 2000s had a full dining area so we just took a look at the modern decor, heard the annoying pop music being played, and avoided the hipsters by ditching the place and calling a limo back to Jim’s house.  
“The 90s wasn’t so bad” Jim said. “You were born in the 90s. But I didn’t want to see you do any heroin.”  
“I don’t think I’d do heroin” I said. “At least I wouldn’t mix it with coke.”  
When the limo arrived I wasn’t feeling as wired anymore, but I was still feeling buzzed, so when the doors were closed and Jim was next to me, I loosened my tie and wrapped my body around him. To my surprise he didn’t kiss me when I leaned in. He grinned.  
“How much of an asshole would you think of me as if I made you wait until we got back home?” He whispered to me.  
“Don’t make me wait, Jim, I really want it...” I whispered back.  
“Take some advice from me, kid, the longer you build up anticipation, the better the release is... And I do plan on releasing something... I’m not going to touch you until we’re back in the shower.” My stomach tingled and I licked my lips.  
“Hello sir” he said rolling down the driver’s window. “Could you play some of The Doors please?” He handed him his phone to connect. “I’m thinking... Gloria.” I shook my head and grinned. I knew exactly what he was doing, and it was working. I happily looked out the window and listened to the music play.  
“Wrap your legs around my neck, wrap your arms around my feet... wrap your hair around my skin... it’s getting harder... it’s getting too darn fast... it’s getting harder...” Jim Morrison said. We said nothing all the way back home. We silently got out of the car and made our way into the house. We took off our ties, then our shirts, then our pants. We made our way to the bathroom. Jim turned on the shower. He stepped inside. I stepped inside.  
I looked up into the intense, dark eyes of my friend. When I was just a fan, Jim used to be intimidating to me; I wondered if in real life he was an asshole, but now I knew, at least to some extent, that he could be trusted, and as I stood there naked in his shower, relatively drunk and high, I felt safe with him. Jim picked up the soap and began lathering it in his hands. He spread it all over my body and then his own. I did nothing and said nothing; I wanted him to make the first move. When we were clean, he shut off the water and handed me a towel. I dried off and he silently took me back to his bed. He scanned his eyes up and down my body, then he smiled.  
“What am I going to do with you?...” he said softly. “Do I give you exactly what you want? Or do I withhold what you desire? Do I call you ‘little girl’ and let you call me ‘daddy’? Or do I beg to eat your pussy at your feet? What do you crave the most, besides a nice, hard, pounding? Is it to be whispered sweet nothings, or is it to be punished and then ultimately rewarded? Is punishment actually a reward, or is it considered nonromantic to you? That’s what I’m trying to figure out... I know you could appreciate me between your thighs, mouth full of your pussy, as you hold my head down, but I can tell pretty accurately, that you are, more than anything else, a brat. You’re not submissive and you’re not dominant; you like to play with your food and incite an equal opportunistic response for playful give and take. Yes indeed, my dear, you are a middle of the road switch. You want to take it as much as you want to give it, you want to be on your knees and then watch me bend over. You want me on my knees in front of you and then you want me to bend you over and then pound the fuck out of you. Is that correct?”  
He had described me perfectly. I felt excitement between my thighs. I nodded.  
“Yes. But what do you want? I imagine you as the type of man that likes to see a woman obediently sucking his cock from time to time, but I can’t imagine that you’ve never been anally stimulated. I think there is power and control in being both submissive and being dominant. When you are submissive, you give control to the other person, and you are free from concern. When you are dominant, you give all of your concern to the person who gives you their power. They’re both fulfilling. I’m not sure, but I think you want to have the best of both worlds just like me. You want to try a little bit of everything and experience many different types of pleasures. That’s what I want.”  
He paused only a moment before responding;  
“You are not wrong. But, I do think I tend to run on the more dominant side...”  
“Good” I said. “Because, I tend to run on the more submissive side...”  
He exhaled slowly. “So what are we waiting for? He approached me and gently ran his fingers through my hair, resting his hand on the back of my neck before sitting down on the edge of the bed. I sat down next to him. Then, I pushed him on his back gently, and ran my hands across his smooth chest. I lowered myself and took his balls in my hand, massaging them softly with my fingers. They were delicate and smooth, hardly any hair on them.  
“Suck my cock” he commanded. His voice was quiet, but firm. I obediently began to suck on his soft penis. When soft I could easily fit the whole thing into my mouth, but as I moved my lips in and out he became harder and harder, and his cock elongated in my mouth until it was not easy to take the whole thing in.  
“You’re a good girl” he told me. “A very good girl...”  
“Thank you, sir” I said.  
“Let me use your mouth how I want to” Jim said, and he grabbed my head with both hands and held it on his cock. I skillfully let his entire cock into my throat and kept it there as long as I could until I gagged and he let me back up. I took some breaths and he guided my head down onto his cock again. He was not rough with me; but he was direct and bluntly told me what he wanted me to do.  
“Take it all the way down to the end, baby, and hold it for me.”  
I did my best to obey his command and so I tried breathing through my nose while I held his hard cock there in my throat.  
“You’re going to do this for as long as I tell you to” he told me. “No arguing.”  
I pulled my head away and breathed  
“And why should I do that?”  
His eyes filled with fire and he leaned in close to my face, his lips inches away from mine.  
“Because” he started, “I’ll reward you with what your pussy wants. I know it wants to be fed, and I’ll happily feed it, but only if you are a good girl, and do what I want. I know best after all.” I met his gaze,  
“You think you know best, but what if I know best?”  
“You’ll do what I say anyway because you are a good little girl, and you need to be taught your place” he argued.  
“But I know how to please you, so surely, I must know best...” I retorted, cheeky grinning. He sat up and quickly pulled me up with him.  
“Someone is being disrespectful” he said disdainfully. “You need to be punished so you can comprehend the way things are going to work.” He snapped his fingers and patted his knees. “Lie down and bend over.” I lay over his knees on my stomach and he moved me into position. He smacked me hard on the ass and I flinched. “I’m only getting started” he said, and he hit me again hard in the same spot. He smacked me five more times before moving to another spot where he hit me equally as hard.  
“This is what’s going to happen every time you disrespect my commands” he told me. He hit me in the middle of my ass and my pussy tingled. He brushed his hand against my exposed pussy and slapped me even harder in that spot. He repeated the action several times before manhandling me back onto my knees in front of him. “Do we have an accord?” He asked.  
“Yes sir” I responded. “I’ll do what you want.”  
“Good. Now get back to work on my cock.” He was still rock hard and difficult to fit into my mouth comfortably. I used a technique of sucking the end of his penis and then swirling it around my cheeks and squeezing it out of my mouth so that it popped out. He started breathing more heavily and forced my mouth open so that he could slide into me. He pushed me up off him and stood up, and twisted me around so that I was on my back with my head hanging off the bed. He supported my head with one hand and guided his cock into my mouth with the other. It went down easily into my throat with the use of his force and gravity. He dipped his cock into my mouth slowly and purposefully let it glide into the back of my throat. I licked his cock with my tongue as he did this. I felt him press up against the back of my throat and evidently so did he; he took his fingers and gripped the area of my throat where his cock had bulged. I gagged but kept him in. He went down again and he thrusted himself inside all the way down. His balls were pressed up against my nose and it was difficult to breathe. He groaned loudly. I gagged a lot, but determined to keep him inside I let him keep going. He put both hands on my chest and steadied himself as he thrust in and out of my throat, his cock throbbing. He angled himself downward so that he was going directly into my throat and not hitting the sides of my mouth. This was easier for me.  
“You’re being so good” he said. “Now, let me reward you...”  
He helped me up and then laid me down on my back. I adjusted the pillows so that my head was comfortable and waited for what he was going to do. He went into one of his closets and returned with a long black vibrator in hand.  
“I want you to cum, but only when I say. Do you understand?” I nodded. He turned on the device and it made a loud whirring noise. He spread my legs apart and found my clitoris, then, lifted the skin above it and pointed the vibrator directly above the head of the clitoris. It was more stimulation than I was used to. I writhed and tried to close my legs but Jim forced them open. I wiggled and squirmed from the pressure but it felt amazing. I tried to move in rhythm with the vibrations but it was all too fast. Jim perched above me, watching me writhe around with pleasure. He took his cock and laid it against my pussy, still keeping the vibrator on my clit. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, head laid back against the pillow. Jim rubbed his cock up and down my vulva, feeling the powerful vibrations on himself as well as on me. Then, he slowly inserted his cock into me, and I opened my eyes and watched him thrust deep inside. He gave up on the vibrator and put his hands on my shoulders to brace himself, thrusting deeply inside me.  
“Baby...” I moaned, and he opened his mouth but said nothing, as he was concentrating on pounding the hell out of me. Back and forth he rammed his cock into my pussy and I sighed with delight. I felt tingly all over and lay there blissfully aroused and content. We were too caught up in the moment to keep role playing, and we thought of nothing except the impact of our bodies intwined together. I weakly reached my mouth upwards and he pressed his lips hard against mine. I grabbed his face and pulled him down onto mine as we kissed frantically, madly flourishing our tongues.  
“God baby... fuck... that feels good” I muttered.  
“Oh yeah? You feel... amazing” he said. We breathed and moaned desperately for each other as he fucked me repeatedly. Nothing in the world mattered at all except that the two of us, Jim and I, were experiencing each other’s bodies in such a profound way.  
“You’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me cum!” He said, and he furiously slammed himself into me over and over again. I waited for it to be over, and he slammed into me hard once more, and then pulled his dick out. Immediately cum shot from his penis and oozed out onto my thighs. He rubbed his cock until every drop of cum had been released, and then he fell backwards next to me. I lay there with my thighs still gaping and pussy ready. He breathed very heavily and reached over and touched my head with his hand.  
“Just give me a minute” he breathed. I let out a deep sigh and lay there motionless and wet. I reached down to feel myself and I was soaking wet and slippery. I didn’t touch the cum. Jim took a few minutes to catch his breath and then picked up the vibrator and applied it to my pussy again. My body jolted and I moaned as the vibrations stimulated my clitoris. It took only took a few more moments before I felt the release approaching, and then, everything was happening at once, and all of my stress and worries were blown away as if by the blast of a bomb. I could almost see the mushroom cloud of smoke boom around me as I orgasmed. Then, I felt very tired. I came back down to the earth and remembered I had a physical body, which was now exhausted and heavy.  
“Thanks...” I murmured.  
“No problem.” Jim switched off the vibrator and we lay there in silence. Jim turned on his side and stretched his legs, then he rubbed his hand along on my thigh. I turned to face him and spread out comfortably. I closed my eyes and felt his body heat warm my naked body. Jim turned off the lamps in the room and pulled a blanket over us.  
“The Time was really amazing” I murmured. “And the beach, and the shops... This has all been so wonderful. Thank you for letting me experience it with you.”  
“You’re welcome, baby. It was great for me too.”  
“Also the sex has been nice” I chuckled. “I really haven’t done anything for a while.”  
“Me either” he yawned. “Celibacy is key...”  
“Makes the world better for you and me... But also, so does making love. I don’t think I’ve ever actually made love with someone, though... Everyone I’ve made love to is a scarecrow. Not really, but everyone I’ve made love to hasn’t been really there.”  
“You bang imaginary people?” He asked. “There’s quite a few of them out there, looking for companionship.” I sighed heavily.  
“You wanna know one of my favorite songs?” I asked sleepily.  
“Those fingers in my hair, that sly come hither stare, that strips my conscious bare, it’s witchcraft... and I’ve got no defense for it, the heat is too intense for it, what good would common sense for it do? Cause it’s witchcraft, that crazy witchcraft, and although I know it’s strictly taboo... when you arouse the need in me, my heart says yes indeed in me, proceed with what you’re leading me to...” I trailed off.  
“Frank Sinatra” Jim stated. “You do have good taste.”  
“Thanks, buddy” I replied softly. I was very tired. The drugs and alcohol and full day out had finally gotten to me. “Mmmhm, witchcraft...” I put my arm around Jim and felt his warmth surround me. Witchcraft indeed, I thought.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young female (insert yourself) discusses her future plans with Jim, and he gives her a surprising gift.

Part 9:  
The next morning we awoke to the sound of harsh rainfall against the windows of Jim’s bedroom. I had wanted to go out photographing and now that idea wasn’t going to work.  
“Maybe it won’t rain all day and I can get the reflection of things in water” I said hopefully. Jim sleepily yawned and opened his eyes half way to look at me.  
“Sorry about the weather, but there’s always tomorrow.”  
“Today is technically the last day of my trip” I admitted.  
“I thought you were going to stay longer?” he asked.  
“I am, but I have a plane ticket ready to go for tonight” I told him.  
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll reimburse you for the ticket” he yawned again.  
“I really appreciate that” I told Jim, stroking his hair, “but I should probably text my mom and tell her that... ugh.” I grabbed my phone and started typing out a message to my mom:  
“Hey Mom, so I was out photographing one day and I ran into Jim Carrey, and we’ve kind of become friends and he’s been showing me around the city, and he said I could stay in his guest bed room for however long so I can extend my trip and he’ll pay for everything. So I’m going to be staying here for a while. It’s crazy but it’s true.” I sent the text and then attached a photo of me and Jim to prove my story.  
“Is she going to be okay with you doing this?” he asked me.  
“I don’t know, but I am 22 so either way it’s my choice. Oh she’s getting back now.” I looked at my phone and saw the three dotes buffering to indicate that she was typing a response:  
“OMG! Congrats! You are very very lucky! I’m sure you’ve been having a great time. Just be smart and safe! See if he’ll sign an autograph for Dad, he likes him a lot.”  
I laughed. “She says it’s cool but to have you sign an autograph for my dad.”  
“Sweet” Jim said.  
“I think she just likes having me away from the house for as long as possible. That’s a win win situation” I said.  
“Mi casa es su casa” Jim said with eyes closed. “Do you want to sleep some more?”  
“Yes I do.” I turned over the pillow to the cool side and snuggled up next to Jim. “Hold me” I said. Jim put his arm around me and he couldn’t see it, but I had a big smile on my face. We slept through the morning and into the afternoon, the rain did not let up all that time, so we ended up lying in bed, talking.  
“I’m so happy, Jim, that must mean that something bad is going to happen.”  
“Why would something bad happen?”  
“Every time I feel happy, something comes along to ruin it. In my experience, happiness is just premature celebration, when the real pain has yet to come. And happiness... true bliss, doesn’t come very often for me, so when it does, I try to seize it and take it all in for as long as possible. But usually, if I take it in long enough, it ends up running out, and I’m left feeling empty again. Or, there’s a price to pay for being so happy. It feels like if I’m allowed to be happy then I have to equal it out with more pain so that I never get ahead, so that my general satisfaction never increases overall, just stays really low. I guess I’m not that concerned with losing the happiness over time; I mean I know it can’t stay forever, and that it will always fade in and out. I’m more worried about the happiness being false. As in, I was wrong to be happy, to let my guard down, and think things were okay when they weren’t. And I feel really foolish, like I should have known that it wasn’t the right time to feel good about something, because things weren’t what I thought they were, and I just manipulated myself into trusting that things would be safe, and then they weren’t, again... I probably sound like such a moody teenage girl to you...” I felt embarrassed for sharing my emotional concerns, but that’s what I tended to do, overshare, borrow trouble. I was aware that constantly blabbing about your problems turns people away after a while, and although I wanted to be open with Jim, the last thing I wanted to do was to push him away because of my mood swings. Jim merely nodded.  
“I understand how you feel. Happiness is brief, and yet it’s powerful enough to have you keep chasing it your entire life. It’s the most euphoric drug there is. I would wonder, what counts as happiness? What is the exact measurement for bliss versus contentment? It’s subjective. Different for everyone. That’s why it may be helpful to stop quantifying good feelings; labeling their intensity and duration, and simply allow yourself to feel good. You’ll know a good feeling when it happens, so don’t think too much about it, just enjoy it while it lasts and is present. And if you need to measure something, measure all the little good feelings that happened during the day, add them up and see how many times in one day that life was good. Most of the time, you won’t notice when something is good because you’re caught up in it, and time goes faster. But if you just take a second to notice or count when you’re happy, those times will stick out more, you’ll remember them, and can count them when recalling the day. The point is, you’ll build up a bunch of good feelings and be more likely to feel that overall the day was a good one, and that you were pretty happy.”  
“That sounds like mindfulness” I said. “It is mindfulness. It’s training your brain to notice positive associations and to appreciate them more.”  
“Believe it or not I actually practice mindfulness” I laughed. “But I guess I have to practice for a longer time before I feel better. I mean I do feel better than when I started doing it a few years ago, but I still have a lot to work through. And mindfulness can only do so much. Controlling your thoughts is very important, but even when you do that, you can’t control your feelings. That’s what I struggle with; trying not to think negatively but feeling so bad anyway that I start focusing on the pain. Usually it’s sadness that creeps up on me during the day until I can’t ignore it anymore. And then there’s grief, guilt, shame, fear, longing... All the bullshit emotions you want to avoid. And that’s why drugs are fun, haha.”  
“Drugs are one solution” Jim said, scratching his arm. “There’s also painting, drawing, writing, sculpting, composing music, photography, acting, film making...”  
“Sex...” I added. “A good orgasm can lift the spirits for sure.”  
Jim ruffled my hair,  
“So have your spirits been lifted?”  
I sighed and nuzzled into him closer. “Oh yes, they have been. Every time so far...” I sighed again. “But really every moment with you has been uplifting. This has been the best vacation of my life.”  
What if it wasn’t a vacation?” Jim spoke quietly, his lips pressed right up against my cheek. “What if your life at home with your parents was the vacation, and your real life was here, barely just started?”  
“Here I have no responsibilities... I’ve just been having fun, socializing, and taking pictures, oh and having cocaine fueled sex with you. That’s not exactly a realistic lifestyle that I could hope to maintain for more than a few days.”  
“I agree that you can’t just do drugs every day and have no job or task to perform” Jim replied, “but is the rest of the lifestyle so bad? Having fun, making art, having genuine human connection? Rubbing shoulders with old clowns like me?”  
“It does sound ideal” I said thoughtfully. “But not, like... probable. It’s not likely that if I came out here I’d be a successful artist and have enough money to live and that you’d even want to deal with me when I’m broke and naive, a greenhorn, with no special skills or talents. It’s just not realistic at all, is it?”  
“No, it’s not realistic. I’m not sure of the probability but it’s not the most practical idea. You could fail. There’s always that chance for horrible, catastrophic failure. But you know what else is true? You could fail anyway. You could fail at going to college, finishing your bachelors degree, finding a suitable job, and making a living wage. You could fail in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, doing what’s practical, steady, secure, less risky, less threatening. You could fail at what you don’t even want to be doing. So why not fail at what you love doing? Why not fail in Los Angeles California, being a passionate artist?” I stared at a wall for a long time, saying nothing, turning things over in my mind, planning what I was to say next, debating about saying what I truly wanted to, figuring out what it was that I truly meant to say, and finally saying “I don’t have an argument for that. You’re right, very right. I really should just move here and do what I really want to do. But i don’t have any money, I don’t have anywhere to stay, and what about college? Shouldn’t I finish it back home? I’ve already done three years. I want to get that over with. Even though I don’t care about my degree very much. I regret not going to art school. I tried to play it safe and I forgot that I’m not cut out for a typical life. I’m depressed and moody and just want to be left alone by everyone except for a select few so I can do my own thing, make art, whatever. “  
“What is your focus in school?” he asked.  
“Media studies.” I said. “I should have gone to art school and found my niche there...  
“I think you should finish school, but you should transfer to a more artistic school to do it. It may take a little longer, but you could learn the skills you wanted and still get a degree. Young people think they need to have it all figured out right away, but they’re only just entering the world. Everyone processes information at a different pace, some focus better on one thing versus another. We all need time to evolve into our true spiritual selves before we can reach any enlightenment, any lasting happiness. If we’re forced into a job or a living situation that stifles our true nature, we become used up and waste our passion. We feel restless for intellectual, emotional, creative release and feel our lives are pointless and trivial. We could be working hard and feeling no pride from it if our souls don’t urge us to do what we do. That’s why so many people in America are unhappy. We are pushed into this ultra capitalist masquerade of a lifestyle, consuming and consuming, and wasting, and longing for more, but the most we get is credit card debt and drug addictions. Sometimes a chance to lash out our frustrations and project our own criticisms into others on the internet. And the rich get richer and the poor stay poor, and some get hungrier for radical change, while others grow weary and give up. And everyone’s depressed and anxious because none of our basic emotional needs are being met as we avoid everyone who rubs us the wrong way, which is most people since we’re always so self absorbed, impatient, and fearful. We’re getting paranoid of others motives and compensate by distributing more and more powerful guns to ordinary members of the public. We have high rates of loneliness but we become even more antisocial by desensitizing our children to violent porn and crime. My point is that it’s easy to fall into a rhythm of self doubt and masking our more natural desires and thoughts for what is supposed to be socially acceptable, productive, or profitable.” He cleared his throat. “Just don’t think that you have to make up your mind right now about anything. But open up your heart to new experiences and try to see what makes you feel like the best version of yourself.”  
“Sometimes it feels like this is the best version of myself I can do, like I should just try and be happy as I am now and not strive to be better... because taking risks is too dangerous and I don’t want to ruin anything more than I already have. But then I think that I absolutely need to change and that I’m not at all good enough now. I want to accept myself, but I also want to get better. I don’t want to settle, but I want to be content. Sigh sigh sigh. It’s a paradox.”  
“There is no self. We’re all just atoms. When you think about that, your flaws don’t matter as much. Only change something if it’s not working for you. If it’s harming you, then do something different. If it’s not harming you, then accept it and think about something you can change. And remember that change is gradual. The first step to change is realizing that you want change to come. If you don’t want change, it’s nearly impossible to make it happen. But you can make things manifest themselves by initiating the change in your mind, reframing your thoughts. Being rational about things.”  
“Haha” I laughed, “I’m not always the most rational. But I have been trying to reframe my thoughts. I like not being delusional.”  
“It’s alright” Jim laughed, “but being delusional can be fun on occasion.”  
“I’d say being rational can be fun on occasion too” I laughed. The smile slipped from my face.  
“So should I move here with no money, no degree, and student debt?”  
“Are those the only things holding you back?”  
“Those, and fear of the unknown, and fear of change. But yeah I’d still face those fears if I had the money.”  
“If you had the money, you’d really go for your artistic pursuits?”  
“Yes I would.”  
“Then I’ll give you the money. I’ll pay for your schooling, your housing, your books and supplies. I’ll pay for your move. I’ll pay for your cost of living until you get a job here.” I was frozen in shock for a few moments.  
“Are you serious? That’s a lot of money. You don’t even know me that well?”  
“Not to brag but that isn’t a lot of money for me to give up” he said. “And I know you well enough to see that you have potential, and a deeply creative soul, and I think that is well worth funding.”  
“Jim... that would be... the best gift ever. It would be unbelievable. Life changing. I could follow my dreams. I could be a photographer, an artist, a comedian, a writer... I don’t even know what I’d be but I could do all those things without worrying about if it’s practical. Or if I have the money. I wouldn’t have to live with my parents and burden them anymore, I could have my own space and room for doing art! I could get so much inspiration in L.A, and meet so many people, so many artists and eccentrics like me! I wouldn’t have to deal with the Wisconsin winter or fall and I wouldn’t have seasonal depression anymore! Oh my god, I could become less depressed. I could be happy! Or at least a lot closer to happiness than I am now. I could have a real chance! Fucking hell... my life might even be worthwhile. For real, man, I could have so many opportunities!”  
“That’s what I want to give you! I want to see you succeed! I’m not saying you can’t succeed at home, but you obviously desire something more than that, and you deserve to try.”  
“Ugh. I love you man. Thank you... so much. It’s so generous and I can’t express it enough how insane this would be for me.” I gave him a tight hug and wrapped my legs around him. I kissed him on the lips and he held me against him, lips pressed tightly. I felt tingling in my pussy and I rubbed against his warm naked body with my own. He kissed my neck and chest tenderly. He cupped my breast in his hand and squeezed it with a tight grip.  
“Okay, there’s one thing you can do to repay me” he whispered. “It’s not necessary but it would make a good offering.”  
“What’s that?” I whispered back.  
He grabbed my ass and squeezed it firmly.  
“Oh, that?” I asked. “It was yours already.”  
“Then you don’t mind if I take it for a spin?”  
“Take me with you at least.”  
“Certainly.”  
Jim removed the blanket from his body and placed it over me. Then he stuck his head under the covers and disappeared under it. I stuck the blanket over my head and watched him rubbing on my ass.  
“If this is my ass, then why are you in possession of it? Have you been knowingly stealing?”  
“No sir, I just thought I could borrow it for a while.”  
“You thought wrong. You’re lying to protect your own ass, but this is my property, and therefore my ass.”  
“Please don’t involve the police, sir. Surely we can work this out between us.”  
“Hmm, I guess I could take punishment into my own hands. I’m not a professional, but I do know good old fashioned justice.  
“Mmm Mm. Mmmm.” He grabbed me in the square of my back and brought me to him. I let him guide me until we were pressed together, kneeling on the bed and kissing heavily. He sucked on my lips and I was entranced, under the ancient spell, witchcraft, primordial lust, heaven, in love... I wasn’t really in love with him, we’d only known each other a few days of course, but those days were so perfect... And I’d been infatuated with him all of my life. Once I met him, all of my dreams were confirmed and my wildest fantasies had manifested like a charm. I was definitely under the influence of something, and that was infatuation of the highest order. I recognized it instantly as the familiar upheaval of rationale into a fairy world. And I couldn’t have been happier for it. As we kissed and felt each other’s breathing hearts, I knew that I had reached The Point of No Return. I didn’t give any resistance as I was pulled into the glowing light of Love. Resurrected into a higher form of being, godlike, infantlike, a creature of pure, natural wonder. I had been a student of this place before, but I dared not sense any dissent from my throne of love in this time and place, with this absurd man, in these absurd bodies, in all the infinitely meaningless matters of existence. I just wanted to be happy, and I did not want to be happy alone. Not this time, not again. I wanted a companion on this journey with me to be my holy friend. These exact thoughts were not present in my mind as I made out with Jim, but if I could have analyzed what my lips were saying as they connected with his, that is what I was mouthing. And my hands? Groping and clinging to my partner? They were really raised in the air, triumphantly singing “Haljlujha! I have discovered the meaning of life, for I am not alone.” 

I don’t know what Jim was thinking as he made love to me, if he considered what we were doing to be an act of love at all, but he looked me in the eye while he fucked me, and I gazed into his soul, as I gave him mine.


End file.
